Harry Potter and the Singing Professor
by Trystym
Summary: Set in 6th year, Harry's summer is drastically altered after Uncle Vernon's sudden illness. A shopping trip unearths someone's hidden past.
1. Default Chapter

Harry Potter is owned by J.K Rowling, Warner Brothers, and its various publishers. No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

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Harry Potter and the Singing Professor - Chapter 1

Another hot July morning. Not the first and certainly not the worst that Harry Potter could remember. Somehow, though, the stifling heat bothered him in a way that it usually didn't. Everything seemed so intense lately, and the heat just made it that much worse. Harry felt alone. He was cut off from the world that he belonged in, and he knew that it was his own fault. Regardless of what Dumbledore had said, he felt responsible for Sirius's death. If he just hadn't been so bloody stupid....

Harry lay in his bed, though he had heard a plate being pushed through the cat flap an hour ago. He stared at the empty cage on his desk and at the open window. Hedwig had been gone for four days now, ever since Harry had run her off. The same day that he had returned from Hogwarts. The same day that he quit being a wizard. 

***

"Back again, I see. Lived through another year. Well, I suppose there's no help for it." Vernon Dursley was as obnoxious as ever. The threats by the members of the Order had kept him silent and pale as far as the car. Once safely inside and on the motorway for home, Uncle Vernon had become nearly incomprehensible with rage. "The nerve of those people, lecturing me on what I can and can't do. I have half a mind to call the police and lay charges against them. But I suppose your kind doesn't know anything about proper civilized behavior." 

Harry had endured it all in silence. Once he had arrived at number four Privet Drive, he unloaded his trunk and Hedwig's cage and took them both in the house. He shoved the trunk into his old cupboard and took Hedwig upstairs to his room. Harry had been thinking the entire ride home, and walking into his bedroom here, he made up his mind. He walked to the window and threw it open. Then he opened Hedwig's cage and allowed her to step out onto his hand.

"You're a wizard's pet, you know," Harry said as he stroked the feathers on top of her head. "Go and find a real wizard to live with, because I quit." 

Hedwig had only a second to look at Harry reprovingly before he took her to the window and tossed her out into the night air. Harry's mind was set; if his only choices were kill or be killed, he would refuse to play. If that meant leaving the wizarding world behind, leaving his friends behind, then at least his friends would be safe. Harry felt responsible for too many deaths to want to ever kill again. With that thought in his mind, he lay back on his bed and began to cry.

Hedwig returned a few hours later as Harry was dozing fitfully. The noise she made coming in roused him, and he turned bleary eyes and tear-stained cheeks towards her. "I said go on!" he shouted angrily. Hedwig turned her beak up at him and watched as he rolled over on his side, facing away from her. The last thing Harry heard was the angry beating of her wings as she left the windowsill. 

***

That had been four days ago. Harry hadn't seen her since. He hadn't left his room, other than for trips to the bathroom. Somebody had pushed food through the cat flap three times a day; sometimes Harry ate; more often he didn't. On the morning of the fifth day, Harry heard a knock at the front door, and voices that moved to the kitchen. Presumably one of them was Aunt Petunia; Harry couldn't really care less who the other belonged to. He had heard Uncle Vernon leave and knew that, by now, Dudley was well into whatever trouble he was making for the day. He rolled over and watched the sunlight creep across his bedroom wall, not bothering to look at the window ledge, where three letters sat for him.

***

"I have had enough of this." Aunt Petunia's voice startled Harry, who had been drifting between dreams. "Good Lord, boy, I thought that bird smelled bad. Into the shower, and get yourself cleaned up. I expect you downstairs in ten minutes."

Harry opened his eyes in time to see the back of his aunt retreating from his doorway. He looked at the clock beside his bed and saw that it was just after lunch on his fifth day back. He climbed out of bed, not bothering to put the sheets back when his foot dragged them off. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed what four days of pity and self-loathing had done to him. His cheeks were stained with dried tears, his eyes bloodshot. His normally unruly hair was plastered flat against his head on one side and he had snot crusting over his upper lip. At some point, he had bent his glasses, and he was wearing the same clothes that he had on at the station in King's Cross. Harry trudged to the bathroom and turned the water on, not even bothering to set the temperature. Clothes were pulled off and tossed lazily on the floor, even though he knew what his aunt would say. He grabbed a towel form the linen cupboard and tossed his glasses into the sink basin. Something nagged at his mind as he stepped into the tub and....

"ARRRGH!" Harry jumped back from the freezing cold water, suddenly realizing what had been trying to get his attention. Suddenly, Harry was as awake as he had been in days. He stepped out of the shower and around to the other side where he turned down the cold and added some hot water to the mix. Carefully checking the temperature, and furious at himself for doing something so careless, he stepped back into the tub. Harry allowed the now warm water to run over his body for a few minutes before he reached for the soap. Having forgotten to bring a washcloth, he soaped himself up directly from the bar. As he watched the suds being rinsed off, he noticed how gray the water looked as it rolled down the drain. He poured shampoo on his hair and lathered it up. More suds coursed down the drain as he stuck his head back under the water. When he felt that he had rinsed all of the shampoo from his hair, he shut off the water, grabbed his towel from the rack and began to dry off. Harry grabbed his glasses from the sink and inspected them. _Bent, and I think I see a crack on the bridge, too. I'll have to see if I can get someone to cast 'reparo' on them..._.

Too late, he realized what he had been thinking and just as suddenly his actions of the last four days came flooding back. _I've run off the only friend I had here, and without her, I can't even talk to my other friends._ Part of Harry was appalled at his behavior, but another part reminded him of what seemed likely to happen to any friend of his. _Maybe I'm better off without them. _

Aunt Petunia was waiting in the kitchen when Harry came down the stairs. "It's about time," she stated. Her lower lip quivered, as she looked him up and down. "That will be quite enough of that. You have work to do around here, and I will not have you wasting food anymore."

Harry started to argue that he hadn't wanted the food, and he certainly hadn't asked for it, but he changed his mind and decided that it wasn't worth the effort. _Better to just stand here and do whatever she says._ For lack of anything better to do, he began to look around the kitchen to see what had changed since he left nearly a year before. 

The television was still in its place of prominence, beside the toaster on the countertop. The dishwasher looked to have been replaced. _Can't say that's surprising, considering the number of plates Dudley and Vernon go through._ Two of the chairs at the kitchen table had been replaced as well by large, heavy reinforced oak chairs. The table seemed the same, centerpiece and napkins all in their assigned places. Sitting in the middle of one of the placemats was a piece of what looked to be a lemon candy. _What's that doing...? _

"Are you even listening to me? I said that Mrs. Figg called and needs her lawn cut. I told her you would do it." Aunt Petunia finally cut through Harry's thoughts. 

Harry's eyes snapped back to Petunia. He knew that he hadn't heard what she was saying, but he knew the routine well enough. "Cut the lawn. Got it. Can I just go do it now?" Annoyance colored his words.

"Not our lawn, Mrs. Figg's. _We _have a service. I knew you weren't paying attention. When you're done with that, you can come back here and get started on cleaning up that pig sty." Petunia turned and walked to the counter by the sink. She picked up a glass and pointed it at Harry. "And another thing, I don't know what you did to this glass last summer, but you had better hope you can undo it. Everything that's poured into this glass tastes foul. It's part of a set that I got for my wedding, and I will not have you and your freakishness ruin it."

"I didn't do anything to that glass. I haven't even been here," Harry snapped. But thinking back, Harry dimly remembered Mad-Eye Moody cleaning his magical eye in a glass when the Order had come to rescue him last summer._ Serve her right if Moody's eye did do something to the glass. _Harry could feel all the anger that he had been holding in coursing through his veins. "Now, can I go? It seems I have a lawn to cut." He didn't care that it was rude; it felt good to let some of that anger out.

Petunia's face twisted as if she had been slapped. "No! I'm not done with you yet. If you think you can come here and lie around all day, and then act insolent...."

Harry snapped.

"What the hell do you know? What have you been doing for the last year? Spying on the neighbors, making sure that none of them have a better car than you? That's rich. Meanwhile, I've had the papers making everyone think I'm stark raving mad. I've had the worst dark wizard the world has ever known crawling around inside my head, and I watched my godfather get murdered by one of his followers." Harry choked back a sob and started defiantly at his aunt. 

Petunia's face softened for an instant. "I know...."

Harry cut her off, "What do you know? Have you ever had Voldemort kill someone you loved? I didn't think so."

Petunia, on the verge of tears whispered, "Yes, I have...."

Harry rounded on her again. "You didn't love my mother. And don't you dare call her a freak. The only memory I have of her is hearing her voice as she pleaded for my life and then he cut her down." It was all coming out now, the years of anguish, the hatred he felt towards the Dursleys and the life they had forced on him.

"He killed my parents too," Petunia shrieked. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth , as if to prevent the words from spilling out. Her eyes widened in horror, and as she fled the room, Harry heard a muffled sob escape her.

Harry stood in the middle of the Dursley's clean white kitchen dumbfounded. _What did she mean 'he killed my parents too'? _He admitted he didn't know much about the Evanses. He didn't know how they had died; he couldn't remember ever having seen a picture of them. Suddenly, it seemed important. Harry did the only thing he could do. He went to Mrs. Figg's.

***

Mrs. Figg's garden was much like Harry remembered it. Plants were scattered haphazardly and the lawn crept into the flowerbeds in places. Unlike the Dursleys', it had obviously been planted with love and care, if not experience. As Harry walked up the path to the door, he saw he was being watched by a gray tabby cat that was perched on a fence. Another smaller calico was playfully attacking a bush of catnip planted near the door. As he put his foot on the top step, the door was opened and Arabella Figg stood in the doorway.

"Come in, Harry; I saw you coming up the drive. I have some tea on, and the biscuits are ready." Mrs. Figg ushered Harry into the house and shut the door behind her.

"I hear that you've been spending a lot of time alone. That's not good for you, boy. I heard what happened, and I feel awful for you, but that is no excuse to lock yourself in your room and stop eating." Mrs. Figg busied herself at the stove.

"Did my aunt tell you that?" Harry responded dully. First the shock of what he had heard from his aunt, and now this. Harry couldn't imagine Petunia caring if he ate or not, and he was sure that she wouldn't tell anyone else about it. Where was Mrs. Figg getting her information?

Arabella turned away from the stove with a plate in her hand. As if she was reading his mind she said, "I wish that I could say that your aunt was concerned for your well-being, but Dumbledore told me. Have a biscuit." She offered a plate full of hot, sugary wafers to Harry.

"Dumbledore's been here? Is he coming back?" _I really wish he would walk through that door right now. I have some questions for him, like what else hasn't he told me?_ Harry shifted in his seat and chewed slowly. He felt betrayed, again. Each time Harry thought he had the whole story, he would find another piece that didn't quite fit, and each time Dumbledore would fill in just enough to make it all fit. Harry could forgive him the first time, perhaps. Dumbledore was probably right then; he had been too young to handle it all. He was almost sixteen now, though. He had faced the Dark Lord five different times. He had lost first his parents, then his godfather. He had watched Cedric die because he wanted to be fair. If anyone deserved the full story, Harry did.

"Mrs. Figg, how well did you know my parents? I mean, did you know anything about them?" Harry wasn't sure how to ask what he wanted to know; for that matter he wasn't sure what he wanted to know. All he knew was that Aunt Petunia had left him with more questions and no more answers.

"Oh, I remember them. Especially your father. He and Sirius always had time for a joke; even during the darkest times they could make me laugh. I remember once when he and Sirius...." She fell silent and looked sadly at Harry. "Perhaps this isn't the best thing to talk about. We just got you out of your room after four days, and I won't have anyone blaming me for sending you right back there. I know that you miss him, but it won't do to be starving yourself. If you don't get out there and live, what's the point?" Mrs. Figg sighed, "Look at me, preaching to you."

Harry wanted to ask more, but now didn't seem to be the right time. He sat and thought about what Mrs. Figg had said, though. _If you don't get out there and live, what's the point?_ Sirius hadn't been allowed out of the house for the last year. It seemed like the only time that he was enjoying himself was on those rare occasions that he and Harry talked about what Harry was doing. _He was living through me. He died for me, too. Maybe I do owe him something more than sitting around wishing he were still here. _"What about my grandparents? My mum's parents? Did you know them?"

Mrs. Figg looked at Harry curiously, "No, I can't say that I ever met them. Evans was their surname, right? Your mother though. Poor soul. It took her and Remus Lupin both to keep those two miscreants in line sometimes." Mrs. Figg smiled. "However, while we talk, my grass just keeps getting longer. And if you see Tonks out there, you can tell her tea is ready. Mundungus can just stay out there. I still haven't forgiven him for leaving you alone last summer." 

Harry was shocked. "What do you...are they _still_ watching me?" Harry thought about it for a moment. _Of course they're still watching me. Nothing has changed from last summer, except there are more Death Eaters out there that hate me, and Voldemort has come out of hiding. Maybe if I know that they're out there I won't be quite so lonely._ Harry stood up and walked to the back door. He opened the door, stepped out onto the top step and shouted, "TONKS! TEA'S ON!"

Nymphadora Tonks' head appeared floating next to Harry a minute later. Harry might have been surprised if she hadn't tripped and knocked over a birdbath on the way to the house. "Wotcha, Harry. Now move out, I'm famished." She stepped inside with Harry and took off the Invisibility Cloak she had been wearing. 

Tonks was dressed quite conservatively today, Harry observed. _Well, conservative for Tonks, anyway._ She wore flat sandals that laced up her ankles to a point just below where here black stretch pants hit. Her white T-shirt was short enough to show just a peek of flesh. Emblazoned across the front of the shirt were the words 'National Naked Quidditch Team' and on the breast pocket the words 'I play naked Quidditch, how about you?' The whole idea left Harry somewhat flustered and at a loss for words. _Surely she doesn't really play...naked?_

"Hello, Earth to Harry. Eyes up here, please." Tonks finally managed to get Harry's attention. She pretended not to notice the flush spreading across his face. "As I was saying, this has been the easiest guard duty I've ever done, but would you mind moving around a bit more? That way at least we know you're still alive." 

"I've had a lot on my mind. I guess I have been a bit rude, though. I ran Hedwig off. Haven't seen her for days. I don't know if she'll ever forgive me." Harry was sure that of all the people he had slighted, it was going to be hardest to gain Hedwig's forgiveness. Unfortunately, he knew if he was going to get any answers to his questions, he was going to need Hedwig.

"I saw her this morning. She's been hiding in the top branches of a tree overlooking your window. I'd say she was concerned about you, but take it from me; it's best never to offend an owl. They're right proud birds." Tonks massaged a small scar on the back of one of her hands. "We all know it's been rough on you, Harry, but all this brooding isn't good for you." Tonks wolfed down another biscuit and pointed out the back door. " A bit of time in the sun will do you wonders."

Harry took this as his cue, and went out the back door to get started on the grass. He pulled Mrs. Figg's dilapidated push mower out of the garden shed. The damp weather and lack of use had very nearly frozen the blades in place, so Harry found an oilcan and went to work on the bearings. When he had the mower turning freely, he started in on the high grass. Cutting the grass turned out to be cathartic. The warm sun and hard work left Harry feeling tired but satisfied. When he reached the halfway point he stopped and walked to the house to get some water. Just before he reached the steps he heard Tonks laugh and say, "Dumbledore in Muggle clothing, I never thought I would see the day. And not just any clothes, he was wearing a gray wool suit. Marched right up to the door and pressed the bell. Oh, you should have seen the look on that woman's face...." Tonks broke into fits of laughter again. 

Harry quickly climbed the steps and opened the screen door. "Mrs. Figg, could I have some water please?" Harry was dripping with sweat and covered in grass; he knew better than to track through the kitchen like that. "What's so funny, Tonks?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing really, I was just telling Arabella about something funny I saw." She snickered again and turned back to her tea. "I really should get back out there. How about I wrap a couple of these up and take Dung a cup?"

"Well, as long as he stays out there and returns the cup. Give him a chance and he'll have the whole tea set, trying to flog it." Mrs. Figg came to the door with a large plastic cup full of ice water for Harry. "Here you are, dear. Take a rest; it's beastly hot out there."

Harry took the water gratefully and drank deeply. "Yes, Ma'am. I should be done in another hour." He heard Mrs. Figg walk Tonks to the front door, and sat down on the steps to think. _Why did Tonks avoid my question? She didn't lie to me; none of them ever seem to lie. They just don't tell me all of the truth. And what was Dumbledore doing in Muggle clothing?_ Harry paused; the image of Dumbledore in a suit like Uncle Vernon wore to work was amusing. _Who did he go visit? What is going on?_ With another surge of anger, Harry finished his water and went back to the grass. His mind churned as he struggled with the mower and with the much tougher questions he didn't have answers for.

***

The sky was beginning to darken by the time Harry got back to number four. He checked the drive and saw that Uncle Vernon was home, and the racing bike tossed casually in the front yard signaled that Dudley, too, was at home. Well, he had been cutting grass at Mrs. Figg's and had come right home after, so he had an excuse for being late. He stopped at the front stoop to remove his grass stained trainers and brush the dirt and grass clippings from his clothes. Mrs. Figg had insisted on paying him for his work, so he had a five pound note tucked deeply in his pocket. _I'll have to remember to hide this_. While he didn't really care about Muggle money, he didn't see any reason that Dudley should benefit from his day's work.

Harry stepped inside the house and was relieved to find the living was empty. He crept down the hall and had made it to the stairs when his Uncle Vernon bellowed, "Boy! Get in here!" 

Harry sighed and turned back to the kitchen. Vernon Dursley was standing at the stove. He wore his wife's apron, which did little to cover his immense girth. Smoke was billowing from a pot on the stove. "Blasted appliance. Never has worked properly," Vernon muttered. He turned on Harry. "I don't know what went on in this house today, but I am sure you are to blame. Your aunt has taken to her bed and left me to deal with the cooking. I won't have you mucking about with the peaceful running of this family. Now what did you do?"

Harry grimaced. "I didn't do anything. I've been at Mrs. Figg's cutting grass all afternoon. You've got the burner too high," he commented. 

"You know all about cooking now, do you? You can get over here and do it, then." Vernon stepped away from the stove and thrust a spoon at Harry. "And mind you, none of that funny business."

Harry walked to the stove and surveyed the mess. Aunt Petunia's largest Dutch oven was on the stove, full to the top with boiling water. At least, it might have been water. The mess on the counter beside the stove gave Harry a better idea of what was floating in the pot. The cardboard wrappers and foil pans from a pair of frozen dinners were littered among half a dozen open spice bottles ranging from garlic and parsley to tarragon and cinnamon. The spices were floating in the water, along with what smelt like olive oil. Harry checked and yes, there was a bottle of oil lying on its side behind the pot. Sitting on the bottom of the pot were the contents of the foil trays. Meat with gravy, peas and carrots, and two globs that looked faintly like apple strudel. Two brownish blobs floated to the top and then sank again with the action of the water. Harry looked at one of the cardboard boxes. Dinner rolls. It was all Harry could do to keep from laughing. "I don't think this is going to do," he said, diplomatically. "What would you like for dinner, Uncle Vernon?" 

"I want what I was cooking there, boy. Use your head. Why would I have started it if I didn't plan to eat it?" Uncle Vernon headed for the living. "And make it quick," he snapped as he walked out of the room.

Harry took one more look in the pot and decided there was no saving it. _Even if I was allowed to do magic, I wouldn't know how to fix this. _He checked the freezer and was relieved to find two more frozen dinners. Following the instructions printed on the back, he preheated the oven and removed the foil packets. Inspecting the contents, he decided that dunking the whole thing in boiling water hadn't changed it very much. The meat was still a brownish gray, the vegetables looked soggy, even frozen, and the apple strudel was just nasty. When the oven had heated, he inserted the foil packets into it and set the timer. While those were heating, he strained the contents of the Dutch oven over the sink and tossed the whole mess in the garbage.

Harry turned his thoughts to what he was going to eat. For the first time in days he was hungry. _I hope whoever is outside is taking note of this. I'm eating, not trying to starve myself to death._ He found some thickly sliced precooked ham and provolone cheese in the refrigerator. On the counter was a thick loaf of crusty French bread. He sliced himself off two hunks of bread and added the ham to one side and the cheese to the other. A quick check of the timer told him that the frozen dinners still had five minutes to heat, so he inserted the two halves of his sandwich beside them.

When the timer went off, he removed all the food from the heat, and transferred it to plates. He quickly ran his plate upstairs to his room and came back down to announce dinner.

Uncle Vernon lumbered into the kitchen followed by Dudley. Vernon grunted once, which Harry took to mean that the meal was satisfactory. 

"I'll just go to my room now," Harry said.

"Bloody right you will, after upsetting your aunt the way you did," Vernon replied.

Harry ignored the comment and grabbed his trainers. Once safely in his room with the door shut, he breathed a sigh of relief and looked down at his sandwich. It looked delicious. Harry congratulated himself. There was no way he would have been eating this if Uncle Vernon or Dudley had seen it. The first bite reminded him just how long it had been since he had eaten any proper food, and quickly the sandwich was gone. _I watched Sirius eat like this once._ He remembered sneaking food to Sirius and Buckbeak during his fourth year, when they were in hiding outside of Hogsmeade. The thought reminded Harry that Sirius was gone, and suddenly his mood turned sour again.

Harry glanced around the room, and his eyes fell on Hedwig's empty cage. Suddenly, he remembered what Tonks had said that afternoon. He looked out his open window and caught sight of a pair of glowing round eyes just before they turned away. His gaze fell back to the windowsill, and he noticed the unopened letters for the first time. Idly, he picked up the one on the top. The cramped and smudged handwriting had to belong to Ron, so he opened it.

__

Harry,

Hope the Muggles haven't been too bad. I talked to Mum, and she said that you could spend August here with us. Guess that's better than nothing, huh? Hedwig just arrived, but she didn't have anything to deliver. I'll send this back with her, since I don't trust that ruddy owl of mine.

Ron

PS - Mum said that Dumbledore had something for you that would make the summer go better. Don't know what it is, though. Let me know when you get it.

Harry sighed. Nearly a month until he could escape this house again. That meant a month without anyone else to talk to. He could probably talk to Tonks or whoever else was watching him, but it wouldn't be the same. 

Dumbledore had something for him. Great. Another mystery from Dumbledore. Just what he needed. Whatever it was, Harry wasn't sure that he really wanted it. Harry looked at the next letter and noted the Hogwart's crest on the seal. _It's too early for OWLs, isn't it?_ Harry broke the seal open. _Guess I had better get it over with_.

To his surprise it wasn't his OWL results. It was a list of names.

Harry Potter

Hermione Granger

Weasley household

Hogwarts (Albus Dumbledore)

For further instructions, please see package.

Harry set the letter aside and looked around for a package. It wasn't to be found. As Harry looked under his desk, he heard a soft screech and the flutter of wings. "Hedwig! -OOF!" Harry banged the back of his head on the desk as he jumped out from under it. 

Sitting perched on the windowsill was Hedwig. She had a small package tied to her foot, and she looked ready to bolt. As Harry advanced, she cocked her head and stared at him.

"I'm sorry, girl. I really am. I didn't mean what I said; I know you would never leave me. I was just really upset." The desperation in Harry's voice was evident.

Hedwig turned away from Harry and partially opened her wings. She turned her head back towards Harry, as if to say he only had one more chance.

"Wait! Don't leave. I really don't know what I would do without you." Harry was flooded with relief as she relaxed her wings. "You've always been here for me, even when I treated you horribly. Thank you. I love you, Hedwig." Harry reached out and touched her head. When she didn't pull away, he began to stroke her. When she finally held out her leg with the package, he gently untied it. Hedwig hopped off to her cage for some water.

Harry unwrapped the package and found a small hand mirror and a note. He unfolded the note and read:

__

This mirror will allow you a secure way to communicate with your friends. Speak the name of the person you wish to speak with into the mirror. You may connect to more than one person at a time, and they can speak to the other person. The mirrors have been treated with an unbreakable charm, and are locked so that only the owner can see and hear a conversation. Currently one resides in my office, one with the Weasleys, and one with Ms. Granger. Use them well. - A. Dumbledore

Harry was intrigued. He wouldn't be locked away from his friends for the next month. While he wasn't sure he wanted to speak to Professor Dumbledore right now, he knew that having a way to communicate with him could be useful. He decided that it was still early enough that he could try Ron.

Harry felt a little foolish as he held the mirror out in front of him. "Ron Weasley," he said, hesitantly. The surface of the mirror clouded, and he thought he heard a faint beeping. Suddenly, the scene cleared and he was staring at Ginny Weasley standing in what had to be the kitchen of The Burrow.

"Harry! Ron's in the shower. I'll get him for you." Ginny started to put the mirror down, hesitated, and held it back up closer to her face. "Erm, Harry? Did you get my letter? Only...I was just feeling, er, well..." Ginny's face flushed.

Harry was momentarily confused. _Oh the third letter must be from her. _"I haven't had a chance to read it yet. I just got back from cutting Mrs. Figg's lawn." Harry couldn't help but notice the look of relief that crossed Ginny's face as he spoke.

"Well, that's alright. It was nothing, really." Ginny's head turned away from the mirror and looked toward the stairs. "Hold on, I think I hear Ron now." Without another word she set the mirror on the table and ran off up the stairs.

Harry examined the mirror as he waited. The position that she had left the mirror in gave him an excellent view of a water stain on the ceiling over the kitchen table, part of the clock on the wall, and a bit of the staircase. After the third time that Harry caught himself trying to turn the mirror to get a better view of the room, he set his mirror down and propped it against a book. A minute later, Ron came pounding down the stairs, dripping wet, with a towel wrapped around his waist.

"HARRY! HARRY, CAN YOU HEAR ME?" Ron was shouting into the mirror. Perhaps it wasn't just telephones that had Ron befuddled.

"Ron, you don't have to yell. I can hear you just fine." Harry watched as comprehension blossomed on his friend's face. 

"Oh, yeah, right. Hold on while I run upstairs. Ginny dragged me out of the shower and said that I had to come speak to you." Ron looked slightly annoyed. "I don't know what's gotten into her lately." Ron ran up the stairs, mirror in hand. "Did you get my letter? Hedwig was here, so I just figured I would send it back with her. Hold on." Ron tossed the mirror on the bed and stepped away. Harry could hear sounds of Ron getting dressed. Ron came back into view and picked the mirror up. "So how's life at the Muggles? They looked shocked when Moody and everyone from the Order talked to them."

Harry was beginning to get queasy from watching the view shift in the mirror so much. "Not too bad, I guess. Listen, Ron. I think I'm going to go to bed; it's been a long day. I'll try and call you tomorrow. Okay?"

"Sure, I'm working on loads of stuff for us to do when you come for the summer. Maybe we can get Hermione here, too...." Ron's voice trailed off and he got a dreamy look in his eyes. "I'll talk to you tomorrow then. Bye."

"Bye, Ron." Harry said and watched as the mirror clouded over and became a normal mirror again. _I wonder why Ginny dragged him out of the shower? And what was in her letter than got her all flustered?_ Harry grabbed the letter in question, lay down on his bed, and began to read.

__

Dear Harry,

I hope that you are feeling all right. I just wanted to say that I am here if you need someone to talk to. I don't really know what it is like to lose someone that you care about so deeply. I liked Sirius a lot, but I don't think that what I'm feeling is anywhere near what you must be feeling. But I do know what it is like to have something traumatic happen to you, and then not be able to talk about it with anyone. I didn't get to talk to anyone after first year, and it changed me. I still have dreams about that place. Oh, Harry, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be writing this now. I know what it is like to try and live with all these feelings bottled up inside, and no way to let them out. I know that it hurts to let it out, but in the long run it hurts more to keep them inside. I was miserable for months after that. Fred and George tried to cheer me up, and I made the right noises so that they would leave me alone. Then one night, Hermione heard me crying in my dorm. She sat down with me, and all of this just came flowing out of me. I cried and I wailed and I beat on my pillow. Through it all, Hermione said nothing. She just seemed to know that I needed someone there to listen. When I was done, she helped me dry my tears and clean up, and then she explained about something she called primal scream therapy. She said that sometimes when all of this emotion builds up, the best way to let it out is to just go somewhere and scream until you're so tired you can't scream anymore. [aah, yes, the primal scream. One of the best therapies available, and it's free!]

You know, I really do love her. She's like the sister that I never had. Maybe one day she will be, if that damn fool brother of mine will get off his lazy arse and do something about it. [lol] I know this screaming thing sounds stupid, but it helped. I snuck out one night and went down to the Quidditch pitch and stood in the middle of the field and shouted myself hoarse. When I was done, I felt like all the suffering had just drained out of me. I wasn't better, but at least I could see myself getting better. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I will listen to you if you ever want to talk, or whatever. 

I need to send this to you now, before I go back and read what I wrote. Hedwig is standing on this letter waiting to take it, I told her I had something for her, and she came to my window to get it. I didn't want Ron trying to read what I wrote.

Yours,

Ginny

Harry was dumbfounded. He set the letter down on his bed and stared at the ceiling. Ginny had never said this much to him before at one time. He was sure she had never told anyone else some of this. Harry got up and changed into his pajamas and turned off the lights. He lay on his bed for a long time staring into the darkness and remembering Ginny and her letter before he finally fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

****

Harry Potter and the Singing Professor – Chapter 2

The next several days were a blur for Harry. He woke up, had breakfast and spent mornings doing chores. The afternoons found him invariably walking through the streets of Little Whinging. Most days he ended up at the park sitting on the swings. Hedwig would fly down and spend the day sitting in a tree, watching Harry.

Harry was sitting on a swing twisting idly, watching the circles his trainers made in the sand, when he heard the swing next to his creak. A glance confirmed that the swing was now moving slowly back and forth, but there appeared to be nobody sitting in it. Harry was fairly certain that there was only one person familiar enough with him to try and get this close without announcing their presence, so he took a chance. Quietly he muttered, "'lo Tonks."

"How did you know?" came the reply from the vacant swing.

"I heard you sit down," Harry smiled, "that and I can smell bubble gum."

The weight on the swing lifted and Tonks was suddenly standing beside Harry. "Good job. You _are_ pretty good. Of course, I'm not that much at sneaking. You're observant. That makes it much harder to sneak up on you." 

"I couldn't imagine why I would be so observant. It's not like someone has tried to kill me five times," Harry replied peevishly. 

"Hey, don't bite my head off. It was a compliment. I understand completely. Anyone in my line of work does." Tonks smiled at Harry and sat back down in the swing. "See anyone around? I've got a new one for you."

Harry scanned the deserted park and shook his head. "Nobody ever comes here but me and that lout I live with, anyway."

Tonks twisted up her face, and it began to change. First her nose began to recede, forming a flat snakelike nose with two large slits for nostrils. Her eyes began to grow and change color; then her chin pointed and elongated. Last, her hair changed color and grew. When she looked dead on at Harry, it was like staring at Voldemort, or rather, Voldemort as a caricature artist might draw him. Her nose had drawn in to the point that it was forming a dimple in her face, her nostrils so large that she could fit a Galleon inside. Her eyes were bulbous and fluorescent pink, with triangular pupils. Her chin jutted well away from her face, and her hair had become long green dreadlocks formed to resemble snakes. Two huge fangs sprouted from her mouth. When she opened her mouth to speak, Harry could see that her tongue was forked...with three tines. "Tho, watff to you fink?" Her fangs shrank back into her mouth. "What do you think? Kinda hard to talk with those teeth."

Harry was chuckling. "Oh, that's good. You might want to fix it before someone comes around, though." Harry had to admit Tonks could usually cheer him up, at least for a bit.

Tonks shrank back to her normal visage. "I thought you might like that one. It's always good to make fun of the dark lord." She shifted slightly in her swing, so that she was closer to Harry. "Thought you could use some good cheer. So, what's been eating at you lately? You haven't seemed as depressed, just...preoccupied."

"I've just been thinking a lot." Harry paused. Maybe he did need to talk to someone. He hesitated. "Er, Tonks?"

Tonks' expression settled as Harry's tone changed. "Yes, Harry?"

"Umm, have you ever been in love?" _There, I said it._ This was definitely unfamiliar ground for Harry.

"Oh, hundreds of times. Or did you mean real love?" Tonks replied.

Harry sensed that she could feel his uneasiness and was trying to relax him.

"I don't know, is there a difference? You see, there's this girl...." Harry paused. 

"There often is," Tonks replied.

"Well, I know she used to say she loved me, and then she said she didn't, and we're good friends and all, but she told me some things, and I don't know how to respond, and I _can't_ just ignore it, and what she said really helped and all, but I just...." Harry finally ran out of breath.

Tonks' smile made it clear to Harry that she knew what girl he was talking about. "Well, how do you feel about her? Are you asking me how to tell if you're in love with her? Because I can't answer that one for you."

Harry looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "No, no, I'm not in love with her. Some of the things that she said made me feel terrible for her. I didn't know how bad she had it. I guess she is sort of special to me. We shared an experience once...." 

Tonks sighed, "Well, someone once said 'love makes you do crazy things, or something like that. Sometimes it makes you weak in the knees; sometimes you just can't stop thinking of someone. Sometimes it's just the contented smile that you get when you think of them. It doesn't really matter what you feel, you just know. Or so I've been told. I'm really not the best one to talk to about this. I really wouldn't let something like this worry you, though. She's a good friend that thought she could trust you with what she felt. She shared that with you, probably in hopes of making you feel better about what you are going through. She obviously cares about you and wants you to know that. We all do, Harry. Why else would we stand in front of that house in the hot sun and the pouring rain or the middle of the night. If it was just a job, we could find an excuse for leaving you alone. Even Dung. You know, I heard he passed up a 'business deal' because he still had three more hours to go on shift." Tonks shifted uncomfortably. "Enough preaching. I have to get back out there, and I think you need to be getting home. It's almost dark." 

Harry stood up and held out his hand to help Tonks out of her swing. "Thanks, I guess I just needed to talk about this, get it out of my head."

"No problem. That's what I'm here for, to make sure you're safe and sound." Tonks smiled and waved as she pulled her invisibility cloak over her.

Harry started walking back to the Dursleys. _That's what it is. She's not in love with me; she just wrote those things to make me feel like I'm not alone._

***

Harry returned home that evening to find the house blessedly empty. There was a note left on the kitchen table that read:

__

Gone to dinner and a show. Put away the dishes, and don't make a mess.

Harry sighed. While the chores for tonight weren't difficult, he resented being considered slave labor for the month that he had to spend at the Dursleys'. Longing for the time when he could leave, he quickly put away the dishes and made himself a sandwich. He carried his plate to his room and was just getting ready to take a bite when he was interrupted by a beeping noise coming from his back pocket.

Harry quickly stood and pulled his mirror out. Checking the face of it, he saw Ron's face, obscured by a white haze. He held the mirror up and spoke, "Hi, Ron." The haze disappeared and Harry could tell that Ron was in his bedroom.

"Harry, sorry, I would have called earlier, but Ginny's been hogging the mirror all day talking to Hermione," Ron scowled. "I don't know what they could babble on about all day, but there it is for you. Girls."

"S'okay. I've been out all afternoon, talking to Tonks. She and a couple of other members of the order have been following me since I got back this summer." Harry took a big bite of his sandwich and chewed slowly. When he had finished, he continued, "Tonks says hello, and she has some new faces to try out on you."

"Really? Great. I guess that's a lot better than not having anyone to talk to all summer. Listen, the reason that I called, umm.... Mum has been planning something, and I thought I had better warn you. She says that you can come stay on the first of August. She was saying the other day how it was a shame that you had to spend your birthday alone every year, so she's planning a surprise party for you. I know that Ginny and Hermione know about it; they were talking about having it in some park near you. Mum made me swear not to tell you, so, of course I came right up here and called you. I know how much you like surprises." Ron smiled.

"Most of my surprises seem to be when things jump out and attack me," Harry replied. The thought of some of his most recent surprises reminded him of Sirius, and his face fell.

Ron saw the change on his friend's face. "Ah, damn, maybe I shouldn't have told you."

Harry gave Ron a half smile. "No, it's not that. I'll remember to act surprised. I just...well, you know."

Ron smiled in sympathy, "Yeah. Hey, did you hear about the last Cannons' match? That new seeker they have...." 

Harry tuned Ron out. He knew that Ron could go on for hours talking about his favorite team, with very little help from Harry. He had seen it happen, numerous times. After about ten minutes of play-by-play, Harry stopped Ron. "Ron, I need to get to sleep; it's been a long day, and the Muggles will be home any time now." Harry hated to cut his friend off, but he really was tired.

"Er, right. Don't want them knowing there's something magic going on in the house. Hey, I'll call you later. How's tomorrow?" Ron looked on expectantly.

Harry shrugged. "About like any other day around here. I don't have any plans, so I'll be free all day. Have a good night."

"You too, mate," called Ron just before the mirror hazed over again.

When the haze cleared, Harry could see his reflection again. He put the mirror on his bedside table, set out a couple of owl treats for Hedwig and changed into his pajamas. Just as he was turning out the lights, he heard the Dursleys' car in the drive. 

***

As the weeks passed, Harry began to find more reasons to smile. The Dursleys ignored his presence, allowing him to come and go when he pleased. He spent most evenings sitting in the park talking to Tonks, giving her more outrageous ideas. Once they had exhausted the Voldemort permutations, including the Dark Lord in a clown wig and the Voldemort mime, they moved on to others. A run in with Dudley one afternoon inspired the pigboy. He spent the evenings talking to his friends in the mirror and completing whatever inane chores his relatives could come up with.

  
One evening, four days before he was to leave for the Weasleys', he was downstairs cleaning the dust from the backside of the television and straightening the cords at the request of his uncle. His Aunt Petunia was upstairs; Vernon and Dudley were watching the television and complaining anytime that Harry bumped the set.

"Watch it, boy, you'll smash it and then I'll show you what for," Vernon shouted at Harry. It had obviously been a trying day for Vernon; he had come home complaining about losing a drill contract. "I don't know why you couldn't have done this earlier. Your aunt knew I wanted everything straightened and cleaned," Vernon grunted, and rolled his rotund body around trying to find a more comfortable position in his chair. He suddenly made a face and belched. "Pshew...my compliments to the chef." 

Harry knew better than to look disgusted. Very little that the Dursleys did surprised him anymore, anyway. Harry went back to his cleaning.

Harry knew that anything that he said was likely to get him into trouble, and trouble was the last thing he needed. _Only four more days of this. I'll have to remember this to add to my Vernon imitation for Ron. He'll love it. _He was just finishing binding up all the cords into a neat bundle when he heard a screech that made him look up. A large barn owl had just flown through the open front window, tearing a hole in the screen in the process. It flew across the room and landed on top of the television set. Harry saw a thick, official looking envelope tied to one leg. Just as he reached to untie the letter, Uncle Vernon came out of his chair. 

"What is the meaning of this?" he hissed. "I will not have these ruddy birds in my house."

Harry glared at his uncle as he finished untying the letter and sent the bird on its way. Vernon was bright red with anger as he stammered for the next insult to hurl at Harry.

"I will not have those disease ridden things in here. I have half a mind to get rid of that ruddy bird upstairs. Pretty nancy pet if you ask me, not like a...a..." Vernon suddenly went quiet.

Harry looked up again, wondering what sort of pet would silence his uncle so quickly. He watched as the color of his uncle's face went from beet red to purple. Vernon's lips were moving, but no sound was coming out. _Great, he's having a conniption. In a second he's going to catch his breath and really let me have it._ Time crept slowly forward as Harry waited. He waited and watched as his uncle started turning blue and clutched at his chest. As Vernon fell forward, Harry thought _oh, cripes. He's not having a conniption, he's having a heart attack!_ Harry lept from behind the television and ran to his uncle. He grabbed Vernon's beefy shoulder and managed to push him onto his back. Harry yanked his uncle's tie off, and felt for a pulse. He had seen a basic lifesaving class years ago on television, but it all seemed fuzzy now. A movement to one side caught his attention.

"Dudley, call an ambulance. He's having a heart attack," Harry shouted at his cousin. Dudley was standing in front of the couch with his mouth hanging open, staring at the scene in front of him.

Harry turned his attention back to his uncle. _This is just what I need; they'll all think I had something to do with it._ With that thought, he redoubled his efforts and checked to see if his uncle was breathing. _He's not breathing, I can't find a pulse, I can't do this alone._ A quick check confirmed that Dudley had not moved. "Move you fat pig; call an ambulance or he's going to DIE!" Harry shouted at his cousin. This seemed to get through to Dudley. Dudley took one more look at his father lying unconscious on the floor, turned and sprinted up the stairs. A moment later, Harry heard his cousin's door slam shut. _Great. No help there. _

"TONKS!!!" Harry shouted out the open window. "If you're out there, I need help, NOW!" Harry turned his attention back to his uncle once again. _Let's see, was it pinch his nose and blow in his mouth, or the other way?_ Harry jumped as the front door slammed open, and a moment later, Tonks stood in the doorway, wand out.

"What's the problem..." she stopped as she saw the scene in front of her. "Have you called...." 

"No, no time. That fat pig cousin of mine ran off," Harry explained between breaths. 

"Well, keep breathing for him and I will. Where's the phone?" Tonks asked.

"Kitchen wall, cordless," Harry gasped. He was beginning to feel light headed from all the blowing. "Come on, breathe, damn you."

Harry looked up again a couple of minutes later as Tonks came back into the room with the phone. 

"...yes, number four Privet Drive," she said to the phone. "No, I won't stay on the line; I have to see if I can help." She put the phone down and knelt down beside Harry. "They say it should only be a couple of minutes."

Harry looked at her. "I'm about out of breath, and I don't think he's got a pulse. I don't really know what I'm doing..." he paused, not sure what to say.

"You're doing what you can," Tonks replied. "I know a few things, all Aurors get some training, let me see what I can do." She reached over and started checking for a pulse.

"What is all this racket!" Harry's Aunt Petunia stood at the top of the stairs looking into the living room. "All this slamming and running, Vernon, I thought you could keep control.... VERNON! VERNON! What's happening? What..." she stood with her mouth open staring at her nephew and her husband.

Harry looked up. "I don't know, he started yelling and then just fell over."

Tonks interrupted Harry. "Harry stand back let me try something." She pulled her wand out as Harry got away from his uncle. She placed the tip of her wand just above the center of his chest and muttered something. Blue light arced from the wand tip to Vernon's chest. A moment later, he coughed, and Harry could hear ragged breathing coming from his uncle. Harry stared wide-eyed at Tonks.

"Whew, I was afraid that wouldn't work. It doesn't every time, and I was never that good at this sort of thing." Tonks looked back at Harry and smiled.

"Wha-wha-what did you just do? Magic! You did something to him! Who are you? What did you do?" Petunia had recovered from her shock and was bearing down on Harry and Tonks.

"Well, it was a form of a constriction spell," Tonks explained. "I just forced all the muscles to contract, and that seemed to do the trick. Lucky thing, too," Tonks smiled pleasantly at Petunia.

"What happened? What did you do, why is he on the floor?" Petunia stammered. 

"I think he had a heart attack. One minute he was standing there yelling, the next he grabbed his chest and fell over," Harry explained. 

"But, but, I saw her doing...." Petunia was interrupted by the paramedics coming through the front door. The lead man pushed her out his way and knelt beside Vernon.

"Pulse, check. Breathing, check. What happened?" he asked the room in general.

Harry explained, "Well, he was standing there yelling, and his face kept turning redder, then he fell over. When I got to him, I don't think he was breathing. So I, you know, breathed for him." Harry was suddenly very aware that he was a fifteen-year-old boy in a room full of adults.

"Well, you may have saved his life. Good job, I'd say." The paramedic caught Harry's eyes and smiled.

Harry and Tonks retreated to the kitchen to let the men do their job.

"What did you do?" asked Harry. The stress of the day was getting to Harry, and he dropped into a chair.

Tonks sat down beside Harry. "Pretty much what I said out there. It was a form of a constrictor spell that we were taught in Auror training. It can be used to restart a stopped heart sometimes. I was never really good at the spell when we were working on the practice dummies, though."

"I'm just glad it worked tonight. I don't know what I would have done if I had to handle that alone. Just what I would have needed, a dead uncle and everyone blaming me for it," replied Harry. 

"You would have done whatever you could. That's the kind of person that you are. I don't know you that well, but I know that much." Tonks craned her neck to see what was happening in the other room. "Looks like they're getting ready to leave. Are you going with them?"

Harry sighed. "I don't think so. Aunt Petunia wouldn't want me there and I would just be in the way." Harry paused and then his face brightened. "Want to spend the night?" Harry thought about what he had just said and turned scarlet. "Uh, I mean we could watch television or something, and you could sleep on the couch," he quickly stammered. 

"I knew what you meant. I don't think that would be such a great idea, though. Someone might call it dereliction of duty." Tonks smiled at Harry. "Maybe some other time. I do need to let someone know what has happened, though. I'll wait until your aunt and cousin leave."

A minute later, Petunia stepped into the kitchen. She was bundled up as if it were the middle of winter, not late in July. "Harry," her voice was barely a whisper, "we're going to the hospital." She turned and started out of the kitchen, paused and turned back, "Go to bed, I'll be home sometime in the morning." Petunia left the kitchen, and a moment later Harry could hear her and Dudley leave the house and get into the car. Sirens rang out in the quiet night as the ambulance, followed by the Dursleys, left number four.

"It's time for me to go, as well," Tonks said. She stood up and went back to the living room to retrieve her invisibility cloak.

Harry followed. "If you're sure you won't stay. I think I'm going to bed." Harry pushed his glasses up his nose and rubbed at his eyes.

"I'm going to let someone know what happened and then I'll be back out front. Just yell if you need something," Tonks said. She tucked her cloak under her arm and disapparated.

Harry trudged up the stairs to his room and fell into bed. He was so tired he was asleep by the time his head hit the pillow.

***

Harry awoke the next morning to the sounds of an out of control owl and a face full of feathers. Errol, the Weasleys' ancient owl, overshot his landing on Harry's desk and caromed into Harry's bed. "Oof, get off, you." Harry got up, picked the comatose owl up, and placed him on the desk beside Hedwig's cage. He then removed the letter tied to Errol's leg and opened it.

__

Harry,

I heard what happened last night and I wanted to tell you how sorry I felt. I know you don't care for your uncle, but he is family. I expect that your aunt is going to be absent for the next several days, and Dumbledore was very specific that you had to wait until 1st August to come here. If you see your aunt, ensure her that we will be more than happy for you to come here, and until then we will do what we can to ensure that you are looked after.

Molly

The events of the previous night came flooding back. Uncle Vernon yelling. Uncle Vernon falling over. The feeling of helplessness. Harry wondered if his aunt had come home yet. He changed clothes and went downstairs to find out what was happening.

Harry arrived in the kitchen to find it empty. A check of the drive confirmed that the car was still gone. Harry went to the cupboard and got out a box of Dudley's cereal. _Chocho-bombs_, the box read. Harry shrugged and poured himself a bowl. He got the milk from the refrigerator, along with a glass of juice and sat down at the kitchen table. He spooned some of the brown chunks into his mouth and chewed. _Not too bad_. Checking the box, he confirmed his suspicions that the box probably had more nutritional content. He chewed happily.

Part way into his second bowl, Petunia returned. There were dark circles under her eyes and her shoulders slumped tiredly. She stepped into the kitchen and cleared her throat. "Harry," she began, and if anything, her voice was quieter than the night before. "The doctors said your uncle is going to be fine. They say," she stopped as a small sob escaped her, "they say he had a heart attack last night. They also said," she paused and Harry could see that she was having real trouble getting her words out, "that what you did last night probably saved his life." She hesitated again before continuing, "Thank you."

Harry looked up. He had never heard this tone from his aunt before. She sounded...sincere. "Aunt Petunia, you know I don't much like Uncle Vernon, but I don't want him to," Harry paused, "to die. After this year, I wish that nobody ever had to die again." Harry still felt the pain of losing Sirius, and he wouldn't wish that on anyone.

"I know. I imagine that losing your godfather was difficult. I remember when my parents were killed. I was so angry. I wanted to smash something. I wanted it to not be true. I wanted everything to be different, and I knew that there was nothing that I could do. Until last night, it was probably the only time in my life I really wanted to be able to do what...what you can do." The shame of admitting this crossed Petunia's face, but she didn't run from the room this time. 

"What happened to them? I know you said that Voldemort killed them, but what happened to them? They were Mug-er, non-magic people, right?" Harry couldn't help but sound interested; here was one of the missing pieces of the puzzle.

"I can't tell you. The truth is that I don't know what really happened. They were both found dead of apparent heart attacks one morning by the neighbors. I can't say, other than that. I promised that I wouldn't. I shouldn't have even told you this much." Petunia look glumly back at Harry. "Suffice to say, I didn't take you in just for your own good. I did it for my family." The look on Petunia's face was now one of triumph, like she had managed to do something she shouldn't, and gotten away with it. "I'm going up to get some rest. Make sure you clean up after yourself. Dudley will be staying with the Polkisses. I dropped him there this morning." A look crossed her face, as if she had just realized something. "Now, what am I going to do with you? You can't leave, not yet. The doctors say that Vernon will be in the hospital for at least a week, and that he is not to have any stress when he returns home."

Harry interrupted his aunt, "I can be gone on the first of August."

"I know, but there are still three days until then. I suppose I could call Mrs. Figg, but she might think it odd if I asked her to stay here," Petunia paused.

"I got a letter from Mrs. Weasley this morning; she said that they--the Order, I mean my friends and their families--would make sure that I was safe," Harry offered. He was fairly sure that Aunt Petunia didn't know about Mrs. Figg, and Harry wasn't going to be the one to tell her. His aunt seemed to know an awful lot of other things that he wouldn't have guessed that she did, though. "And there's been someone watching me all summer," he added, "after the dementor attack last summer."

A thought suddenly sprang into Harry's mind. "Could I invite one of my friends over for a night? I promise we won't do any magic, and we won't make a mess. We'll just watch television and such. He's never seen one."

Petunia sighed tiredly, "I suppose. Mind you, if you do anything out of line, or make a mess here, I will have your head. Now, if you will excuse me, it has been a very long night." Petunia turned and left the kitchen.

Harry sat at the table stunned. This was more than he had ever gotten from his aunt, and yet, it still didn't answer his question. What did she mean that she had taken him in for her family? And just who had she made that promise to?

__

***

Harry finished clearing up his breakfast and went outside to sit in the sunshine. This early in the morning the heat hadn't gotten too bad, and Harry wanted to take advantage of it. He pulled out his mirror and sat down on the back stoop. He held the mirror close to his face and said, "Ron Weasley." The mirror clouded over, and a few moments later Ron was staring back at him. "Ron, have you heard yet?" Harry asked.

"Mum told us this morning. She was talking to someone in the fire when I came down for breakfast. Kind of funny isn't it? Maybe now he'll think twice about yelling at you so much," Ron replied.

"It was horrible. You just don't know. I mean, I don't like him, but watching him turn blue like that...it was just scary. Listen, my aunt said that I could have visitors over until I left for the summer. Dudley is staying somewhere else, and Aunt Petunia isn't going to be here. She says she knows why I can't leave early. I'm pretty sure she's been talking to somebody, too. You want to come over and spend the night? Tell your mum that there's always other people around to watch us, and we promise not to get into trouble," Harry replied breathlessly.

Ron said, "Can we watch fellivision? That would be great. Hold on, I'll go ask." Ron ran downstairs with the mirror in hand. Harry recognized the Weasley kitchen as he faintly heard Ron ask for permission to go. A minute later the picture righted itself, but instead of Ron's face, it was Molly Weasley's that was staring back at Harry. 

"Harry? Are you alright, dear? I felt so horrible when I heard what you went through last night. I'm not sure about the idea of leaving the two of you alone there," Molly said.

Harry's face fell. "I...I understand, I guess. I was just thinking that...." 

Molly cut Harry off, "How about this. If it is alright with your aunt, Ron can come over and stay, and I will see if I can get Bill or Charlie to stay with you. They're both due here any minute." 

Harry's smile brightened once more. "That would be great. I asked her if I could have visitors, and she made me promise not to tear up the house or do magic, but she said that I could, since she wouldn't be here. She's upstairs sleeping, but I expect that she will be leaving by noon to go back to the hospital." Harry couldn't believe his luck. Not only was Ron going to come over, but also one of his brothers. Harry would have to come up with some brilliant things for them to do. 

"Well, then, I will send them on this afternoon. And Harry, dear, please take care of yourself." Molly handed the mirror back to Ron.

"Harry, this will be great. I'll go and pack some things up, and I'll see you later," Ron said.

"Okay, bye Ron," replied Harry. The mirror fogged over and then cleared. _ This WILL be great. Maybe we can go into town and watch the Muggles._


	3. Chapter 3

****

Harry Potter and the Singing Professor – Chapter 3

Bill and Ron walked up the driveway of number four Privet Drive that evening. Harry had been watching out the window since Aunt Petunia left, and ran out to meet his guests. "Ron! Bill! How did you get here? What took you so long?"

"We went by floo to Diagon Alley, and then took a bus out here. I've never been on a Muggle bus before. It was even better than the tube. There was one real nutter on the bus with us. What was it he kept saying, Bill?" Ron said. His face showed all the excitement of a boy at Christmas, getting a look at a world that he rarely got to see. 

Harry knew how he felt. It was the same feeling that Harry had every time that he stepped through the barrier at platform nine and three quarters. Harry found it funny that the Muggle world could excite Ron this much, though.

"Millennium hand and shrimp, or something like that," Bill replied. "Honestly Ron, the poor man was obviously sick. It's good to see you again, Harry." Bill extended his hand to shake Harry's, seemed to change his mind, and wrapped the younger boy in a fierce bear hug. "So what kind of trouble are you going to get yourself into this year? It's going to be hard to top what you've already done." Bill smiled as he released Harry.

Harry's smile slipped as he again remembered what his latest adventure had cost him. He forced the thoughts from his mind and replied, "I might try staying out of trouble this year. It would be different." Harry led the way inside. "My aunt left earlier. She made me promise again that we wouldn't make a mess."

Ron stepped into the house and went immediately for the television. "Is this it? How does it work? Dad said that there aren't really any little people in there, was he just putting me on?"

Harry laughed. "No, there aren't any little people in there. He was having a go with you, mate. You press this button here to turn it on." The screen flared to life, showing an image of the evening newscaster. "And these buttons here change the channel. Uncle Vernon had satellite put in, so we have lots of channels." Harry flipped channels until he landed on a movie channel where the movie was just starting. He backed away from the set and went to sit in a reclining chair.

Ron plopped down with his face inches from the set. "Harry, all I can see are little colored dots. What's happened to the picture?"

Harry and Bill laughed. "Nothing happened to the picture. It's made up of lots of little dots. Try backing away from the set some."

Ron backed off from the television and came and sat on the couch beside his brother. Harry made some popcorn in the microwave and brought sodas for his guests. The three settled down and watched movies until late in the evening, until one by one they nodded off with the television still playing.

***

Harry awoke on the morning of his birthday feeling that it could, quite possibly, be his best birthday ever. There were no Dursleys around, his best friend was staying the night, and they had stayed up indecently late watching television. Bill had slipped off for an hour the day before, and returned with a huge sack filled with all of Honeydukes best. 

Harry smiled and nearly burst into laughter remembering the Chocolate Frogs races last night. There were no less than six frogs hopping madly across Aunt Petunia's spotless kitchen floor. _I'm not sure that we got all of them. Last I recall there was one hiding under the refrigerator._

Harry got out of bed and stomped noisily toward the bathroom. On the way, he paused to bang loudly on Dudley's door. Harry knew that allowing Ron to sleep in Dudley's bed would infuriate his cousin, which made it all the more exciting. A muffled groan from the other side of the door assured Harry that Ron was now awake. With that taken care of, he plodded on to clean up. One toothbrush and a few half-hearted swipes with a comb later he walked back to his room. Just as he passed Dudley's door, it opened, and Ron stuck a sleepy face out into the hallway. 

"Ha, Harry? What time is it?" Ron asked sleepily.

"Going on eleven, I think," was Harry's reply.

"What time did we go to bed?" Ron yawned and rubbed at his eyes.

"Well, the late movie cam on at three, so...about half past four, I think." Harry was amazed that they had managed to stay up that long, but Ron kept finding another movie to watch. His friend seemed almost mesmerized by the television, especially action movies. To tell the truth, Harry would have to admit that he hadn't seen many more movies in his life than Ron had. And just what kind of language was "Yippie kai yay" anyway?

Ron groaned. "Can't we just go back to bed?" He started to push the door shut, but Harry quickly leaned his weight against it, and they got into a pushing match with the door. Ron stepped back suddenly, allowing Harry to fall forward into the room.

"Mister seeker isn't so graceful without his broom, is he?" Ron laughed and offered Harry a hand. "You're getting slow in your old age. Happy birthday, mate."

A bellow from downstairs interrupted them. "Would you two keep in quiet up there? Some of us are trying to get some sleep."

Harry and Ron looked at each other and said simultaneously, "Bill's up." They raced off downstairs to ensure that Bill would not get back to sleep.

***

Harry, Ron and Bill spent the rest of the morning cleaning up the house and packing Harry's trunk for school. Hedwig spent the morning watching and squawking as things sailed past her cage.

"Don't worry, girl. I promise not to forget you." Harry still occasionally felt guilty about leaving Hedwig until last during what Ron had dubbed "The Great Escape" last night. Losing Hedwig would have been like...losing Sirius. Harry suddenly sat down on the bed and stared off into space. After a moment Ron noticed and stopped throwing clothes out of the closet.

"Harry? You all right? What's...?" Ron stopped as he got a good look at Harry's face.

"I...I can't believe that he's not here today. I know he's gone, I watched him fall. Damnit, Ron, I want him here. He deserves to be here." Harry choked off a sob. He stood up, grabbed the rest of the clothes and books off his bed and dumped them unceremoniously in his trunk. "This isn't doing me any good. Let's see what Bill is up to."

Harry, Ron and Bill made their way to the park later that afternoon. Several times he caught himself searching the are for any sign of his friends, and had to remember that he wasn't supposed to know what was happening. He was therefore surprised to find that when they rounded the last corner, the park was empty. Harry scanned the area once more and turned to Ron with surprise etched on his face, when everyone appeared out of thin air standing not more than ten feet in front of him.

Fred whooped with delight, "That was priceless, Harry. You should have seen the look on your face."

George clapped Ron and Harry on the shoulder and said, "Good one, Ron, you set him up perfect. For a minute there, I thought he was going to cry."

Harry turned to Ron, "You? You set me up for this? You...." Harry paused and smiled at all his friends. "Okay, you got me," and he started to laugh along with everyone else, his low spirits forgotten for the moment.

***

Harry's party lasted most of the rest of the evening. Just seeing all of his friends together, wishing him well, was present enough. From Fred and George he got a bag full of their latest samples, including a new fireworks selection and something they called heart bombs. Hermione's present was an interesting looking book on advanced Quidditch strategy. Ron's present of a dozen chocolate frogs would have probably gone over better, if Harry hadn't thought about what he had eaten the night before. Several of the members of the Order stopped by to have cake and deliver presents of their own. Tonks delivered a book entitled _Magical Self Defense For Those Who Truly Need It_ late in the afternoon. Harry's favorite presents, however, were a pair of photo albums. The first was a small collection of pictures of the Marauders and Lily; some obviously taken at Hogwart's, some that looked to be later in life. The final picture in that book was of the four animagi, all in animal form. Inscribed under the picture, in neat precise writing, was, "As long as truly remember us, we will never be far from your heart." A tear trickled down Harry's cheek as he read the words. When he looked up to thank Remus for the gift, Harry found that he had already left. Harry opened the second photo album and found that it was not from Remus, but instead from Ginny. The title page read, "A Picture History of Harry Potter - As We See Him." Harry started through the pictures, many of which had to have been the work of Colin Creevey. Pictures of Harry holding the Quidditch Cup; Harry on his broom; Harry, Ron, and Hermione laughing together. Harry sat on a bench, dumbfounded by all the work that must have gone into creating this book. Harry never realized that there were so many pictures of him; and in every picture, he was smiling.

"Thank you, Ginny. This is...this is amazing. Where did you find all of these?" Harry felt like jumping up and lifting Ginny off the ground in a huge hug, but couldn't quite bring himself to do it.

"I had a lot of help. Colin and Dennis were kind enough to send me every picture they could find, and I got more from the school and Mum and well, everyone pitched in. Do you really like it?" Ginny blushed deeply, "I hoped you would, but then I thought it was really silly, but...well, I wanted you to see the Harry that we all see."

"I love it, I really do. It's fantastic. Thank you." Now it was Harry's turn to blush. _She really is a great friend._

__

***

Harry, Ron and Bill spent the next morning going back over number four Privet Drive one last time. The sounds of a chocolate frog had awoken Bill in the middle of the night. 

"Ron, I thought you said they only had one good hop in them," Harry said as he rummaged under the couch, looking for any telltale signs that he had enjoyed himself during the Dursleys' absence.

Ron was on the other side of the room checking under the television cabinet. "Bill bought 'Mighty Frogs', not the regular kind. They're the latest in the 'Sentient Confectionery' line. The bloody things last forever if you don't eat them right away." 

"Well, if we don't find it, I'm sure that Dudley will," Harry chuckled. The thought of Dudley trying to chase down a chocolate frog was just too funny. He slumped to the floor and began to laugh.

"Hey, what's this?" Ron stood up from behind the television with a letter in his hands.

Harry looked over and immediately stopped laughing. "Oh, no. I had forgotten all about that. The owl that delivered that was what set Uncle Vernon off. I never even had time to open it."

"Official, from the Ministry of Magic," read Ron. "Only to be opened by Harry Potter." Ron looked at Harry. "I know what this is. It's your OWLs. I saw the envelopes when Fred and George got theirs." Ron's face suddenly fell, "I guess that means that mine will be at home when we get there."

Harry crossed the room and held out his hand. Ron wordlessly gave him the letter. "I don't know if I want to open it," said Harry. _Look at it this way, with that prophecy and all, it may not matter much_. With that thought, Harry broke the seal and unfolded the letter. Harry skimmed the opening paragraph and found his scores listed below. His jaw dropped in amazement. "I got six?" He asked the world incredulously. He looked up at Ron. "I got six. Everything except Divination and History of Magic. I got an 'O' in potions." Harry couldn't believe it. _Take that Professor Snape. I have the grades for your class; I have the grades to be an Auror. _

Ron watched as Harry did a little dance of joy. "Congratulations, mate. I just hope I got enough that Mum doesn't kill me." Ron smiled at Harry yelled to Bill, "Bill come see what Harry's done. He just got his OWLs."

***

A car from the Ministry arrived later that afternoon to pick up Harry, Ron and Bill. Harry carried Hedwig to the car on his first trip, just to assure her that she would not be left behind. Harry was somewhat surprised to see Arthur Weasley at the wheel. 

"Hi, Harry. Good to see you again. Just put everything in the trunk, I'm sure there's enough room." Arthur reached over the back seat to offer Harry his hand. "It seems that I'm back in the Minister's good graces now. When I asked him about finding you a way to get to the Burrow, he handed me the keys to his personal car and told me take the rest of the afternoon off. Looks like all that trouble last year finally paid off." 

"I'm glad for you, Mr. Weasley," Harry replied. He quickly ducked back out of the car and returned to the house for his trunk. When everything had been loaded, Harry and Ron climbed into the backseat, and Bill got in the front with his father. Number four Privet Drive soon faded from view in the mirrors, and with it, so did all thoughts of the Muggle world that Harry was leaving behind.


	4. Chapter 4

****

Harry Potter and the Singing Professor – Chapter 4

"Ron! Harry! It's time to go!" Molly Weasley called up the stairs. Her shouts were quickly followed by the sounds of two sixteen year old boys taking the stairs three at a time. 

"Coming Mum, we were just checking for loose change. Need all that I can get. Really, can you believe that Fred and George are _charging_ me for products? We ought to be getting them for free, and being paid to advertise for them," Ron complained. 

__

But then Ron complains about everything lately thought Harry. _Everything but Hermione, at least._

"Ron, you know the twins have expenses just like the rest of us, and they _are_ selling to you at cost. Now, please pull your trousers down a bit and try to make them last a bit longer. It seems like you've grown since breakfast," Molly said.

"Mum, if I pull them down anymore, my bum will be showing," groused Ron. "Rubbish, just like everything else I own." 

"Don't worry Ron," said Harry. "I've seen Muggles wear their jeans low like that; it's fashionable." _Muggle girls,_ Harry didn't add.

"Now, come on boys, the girls have already gone ahead and will be waiting. With everything that has been going on lately, I don't want leave them too long, even at a nice place like The Leaky Cauldron," said Molly.

Harry grabbed a pinch of Floo powder and stepped toward the kitchen hearth. With only a slight hesitation, during which he remembered his last floo trip from the Burrow, he tossed the powder into the flames, stepped in and spoke "Diagon Alley!"

***

"Odd, but I just had the strangest feeling that I'm destined to grow up and marry a girl with spiky, yellow hair and an orange dress...." Harry muttered. _Need to work on Occlumency...._Harry stumbled forward on landing and actually managed to keep his feet. He gazed around the room, pleased and just a bit surprised to see the dingy interior of The Leaky Cauldron. Two soot-covered girls stood nearby, watching him expectantly.

"Harry, where have you been? We were starting to worry that you had ended up in the wrong grate again. Where's Ron?" Hermione Granger asked petulantly. Ginny Weasley simply stood behind her and nodded.

"He's coming, and _please_ don't say anything about his trousers," replied Harry. 

"Why? What's wrong with his trousers? They're not ripped or something, are they?" Hermione asked.

"You'll see. Just don't mention them," Harry answered.

With another flare of green flame and a small cloud of soot, Ron stepped out and attempted to dust himself off with soot-covered hands. "Could someone get my back?" he called as he turned away from his friends.

"Hello? Harry? Ginny? Hermione? Someone brush me off?" Ron turned back to his friends in time to hear two sets of muffled sniggers and see Hermione looking slightly shocked. "What? What's so funny? How dirty am I?" Ron snapped. 

Hermione recovered at this, and thankful for Ron's ready-made excuse, replied, "Yes, come here, Ron." She proceeded to brush imaginary soot from his back.

A slight *POP* startled everyone as Molly apparated beside them. "Right, everyone here? Butterbeers for later, I should think."

***

Molly led the way into Diagon Alley, with Harry, Ron and Hermione together, and Ginny trailing slightly behind. Harry couldn't help but notice the occasional stare at the group, and was relieved when he realized that the attention wasn't for him. Instead, everyone seemed to be goggling at Ron. Mrs. Weasley was headed for Gringott's Harry determined. _Maybe with all these people here, I can get my own cart_. Despite all the years that they had been making this trip, Harry was still ashamed of the difference between his vault and the Weasley's. _Right now, I would gladly give a quarter of the gold in there for a new pair of trousers for Ron._

***

As the party passed into the brilliant white marble building, Hermione maneuvered Harry away from the rest. 

"Harry, it's...it's...it's, well, it's almost indecent...."

" I _KNOW,_ Hermione...do you think maybe Madame Malkin could do something? A stretching spell maybe...."

"Just think what Fred and George are going to say. It will be just awful. And then Ron will...." Hermione stopped.

"Ron will what?" asked Ron as he approached the two.

"Ron will probably have a conniption if we take separate carts to the vaults," Harry replied smoothly. "Just thinking that, with everything that we have to do today it would save time."

"Makes sense to me, mate," said Ron. "I'll tell Mum to go on, and we'll meet back here in a few minutes." With that, Ron headed back to inform his mother of the new plan.

"Good save, Harry," said Hermione.

"One of my best. Truth is, I was thinking that it _would_ be less cramped if I went separate."

Harry and Hermione joined Ron for their trip to the vaults.

***

Harry, Ron and Hermione climbed into a cart with their goblin guide, Ragnar, for the journey into the vaults. Harry seated himself in the forward-most position and he was joined there by the goblin. Hermione and Ron clambered into the back, where they sat far closer together than was necessary, in Harry's opinion._ Just bleedin' get it over with and kiss her_, Harry thought. Knowing that was unlikely to happen, Harry settled in for the ride.

__

It gets better every time, Harry mused to himself. Truth be told, riding the roller coaster that was Gringott's mineshafts was nearly as good as flying. Twists and turns passed much too quickly, and a familiar burst of flame signaled that the journey was nearing an end. After one last stomach churning plunge, which elicited a pleased cackle from Ron, and a slightly green "Oh, my..." from Hermione, they pulled to a stop in front of Harry's vault. 

Harry took the key from his pocket and unlocked his parents'..._no, my_ vault. Stacks of gleaming golden galleons, silver sickles, and bronze knuts winked in the torchlight. _They had all of this and never got a chance to enjoy it_, he thought. Harry knew that this money had to last him through at least the next two years at Hogwarts, but something about today made him sure that his father, at least, would have wanted him to enjoy some of his fortune. Knowing that Prongs and Padfoot were watching, he scooped an extra handful into his bag. 

"Up to no good..." he muttered to himself. 

"Harry, come on. You know mum's going to be waiting, and Hermione says she still needs to change some muggle money," Ron called out. "What are you doing anyway, counting it?"

Harry closed the vault and turned back to his friends. "No, I was just thinking. My parents left all of this for me when they should have been the ones enjoying it. We need to spend some of this...for Prongs...and Padfoot."

Ron momentarily looked as if he were going to say something about not needing charity, but thought better of it. "What, you mean some sort of memorial? I don't think..." but he fell silent as he noticed the look on Hermione's face.

"No, well, yes...well..." started Harry. "I don't mean like some kind of statue or something." Harry thought of a statue to two unregistered animagi covered with pigeons, and of Padfoot chasing them. A smile suddenly broke across his face. "Something that they would have appreciated. Something _interesting_."

***

Harry spent the trip back to the surface working on his plan. It would be bold; it would be exciting...if he could just think of something worthy of the Marauders. His ideas all seemed a bit childish. Maybe he should hold onto the money and think of something later. After what seemed like no time the cart rumbled to a halt, and he climbed out. 

"Just a minute while I change some money," Hermione called over her shoulder. She proceeded to a counter, leaving Harry and Ron alone.

"So, what'd you have in mind?" Ron asked.

Harry hesitated. After the speech he had made in front of his vault, he wasn't sure that he could admit to having second thoughts. "I'm not quite sure yet; I just got this feeling that my dad would have wanted me to do something besides go to school. You know," he continued, "after all these years, I still don't know who my father really was. I know some of the things he did, in school and after, but I don't know..." he trailed off, not even sure of what he was trying to express.

Ron threw a friendly arm around Harry's shoulder. "Well, mate, everyone says you're just like him, so it shouldn't be too hard to figure out what he would have liked. As for mischief, you've come to the right place. What I don't know, Fred and George are bound to. Maybe you can get some ideas from them."

Ron's mention of his twin brothers brought another thought to Harry's mind. Erm...Ron, have you, uh, really looked at yourself in a mirror? I don't mean to...well...Fred and George are going to..." and he motioned vaguely in the direction of Ron's trousers, which really seemed to be too short on both ends. "Maybe Madam Malkin can do something for you..."

"Are they really that bad?" Ron looked down, "Oh, yeah, I guess they are." 

Harry could see Ron beginning to flush from embarrassment. Now he felt doubly bad for having fun with him that morning. "It's not that bad, really."

"Yes, it is," snapped Ron. "What if Herm...I mean what if some girl...somebody from school were to notice. I'd never live it down. I just wish we weren't so bloody poor. I mean it's a bit better now that there's only the four of us at home, but mum's still trying to save."

Harry was shocked. Ron's slip was the first time he had ever heard his friend come close to expressing how he felt about Hermione. Harry knew he was no expert when it came to love or romance, or for that matter when it came to anything that had to do with girls. His disastrous date with Cho in fifth year had proven that. Maybe what Ron needed was a little more confidence.

As if he was reading Harry's mind, Ron continued, "I know most of my things are rubbish. Those dress robes that Fred and George bought me are nice, but I can't really wear them everywhere, I'd look like a total pouf. You know, I still haven't lived down that set Mum bought me for the Yule ball. What a bloody awful night."

Harry thought the night might not have been so bad if Ron had been there with the right girl, but he wasn't about to correct his friend. "What did you do with those old robes anyway? I haven't seen them around."

"Built a big fire in the orchard one night and burned them." Ron smiled at the thought. "You should have seen them go up, it was beautiful. Of course Mum had a fit, said I was wasting money, that she could have taken them back and gotten something for them. Told her that after Pig had gotten done with them, they weren't fit to wear."

Hermione chose that moment to reappear. "Ron, I found your mum and Ginny. They're waiting by the doors. She says they've been waiting ages. And, um...Malfoy's here as well. Ron, you're not going to make a scene, are you?"

Ron attempted to look offended; "I would never...as long as he doesn't start anything." 

"But, Ron, he _always _starts something. Promise me that you won't do anything," pleaded Hermione.

Ron sighed with disgust and resignation, "I promise I won't make a scene. Even if he bloody well does deserve it."

"Thank you, Ron." Hermione looked relieved, and the three headed for the door. They had almost reached the relative shelter of the atrium when the quiet of the bank was disturbed by a shout.

"WEASLEYS! IN A _BANK_? What, did you get lost, or did you hope they would show you what money looked like?" Draco Malfoy sneered.

"Just keep walking," Hermione hissed.

"And what did you spend the summer doing, Granger? Comforting dear Potter on his latest heart wrenching tragedy? Or turning tricks on some street corner like some common harlot? Filthy mudblood."

Harry and Ron turned; their hands automatically shot to their wands. It took Harry a moment to realize that Mrs. Weasley had spoken.

"I _said_ it's time to go," she repeated.

Where Hermione's nagging would have failed, Molly's simple statement carried enough force to compel both boys towards the door. As he passed Molly, Harry thought he heard her mumble something under her breath. He turned and caught a brief glimpse of her quickly stashing what might have been her wand back into her bag.

"Where are you off to now, Weasleys? Hot rubbish sale to - OOF!" Draco's latest witticism was cut short as his long, silk robes tangled in his perfectly polished shoes, and he fell ignobly onto his perfectly pointed nose. 

An amused snort escaped Harry. He smiled and turned back to the open doors, where he and his friends stepped into the gray afternoon and the beginnings of another fabulous adventure.


	5. Chapter 5

****

Harry Potter and the Singing Professor - Chapter 5

Harry stood at Gringott's top step and surveyed the street in front of him. Wizards and witches thronged the shops around him and gray clouds threatened rain before the day's end. For the first time in months he felt excited about the future. _So what if Voldemort is still on the loose. He's probably not here today. For once I am going to live like I don't have all this hanging over my head. I WILL enjoy myself._

"Well, that was nice," said Molly. "Where to first, Harry? You're the guest."

"Mum! Hermione is a guest too," Ron snapped. He suddenly looked sheepish as he realized what he had said, and whom he had said it to. 

Molly just smiled, "Indeed she is Ronald. Excuse me, Hermione, where to?"

"Oh, Mrs. Weasley, it's fine. Really. Though I do have several special errands that I need to run," Hermione stammered, obviously embarrassed by the sudden attention.

"Harry and I wanted to go by Quality Quidditch Supply," said Ron. "Mum, why don't you go surprise Dad at work and take him to lunch, and we can meet you somewhere in a couple of hours." Ron saw the brief look of worry cross his mother's face before it slipped back to its usual neutral expression. "We'll be fine. I don't think You-Know-Who is going to attack us in Fortescue's or Flourish and Blots. We'll be careful."

"Well, alright. But stay away from Nocturne Alley. And no more than one ice cream. You'll spoil your dinner. Come on, Ginny." Molly turned and started down the stairs.

"Mum, I'm fifteen and I want to stay. Besides, I was supposed to help Hermione with one of her errands," complained Ginny.

Molly Weasley's shoulders sagged in defeat. "Fine. I suppose you're all growing up now. I suppose that means that I can apparate. Ron, watch your sister...and two hours, no more. I'll meet you at Flourish and Blots." She pulled her wand and disappeared.

Ginny looked at Hermione, "Oh, Hermione, I didn't mean to invite myself along. It's just that she always treats me like a child."

"It's okay Ginny. I could use the help. I know what you mean; sometimes it seems like my parents think I'm still six. Shall we?" Hermione nodded in the direction of the street, and she and Ginny were soon lost in the crowd.

"Well Harry, mate. Looks like it's just you and me. Where to first?" Ron asked.

"How about Madam Malkin's? I need to pick something up there," Harry improvised. Reminding Ron of the state of his trousers wouldn't help matters at this point. 

A curious little bell rang as they opened the door to the shop. In response to the bell a voice called from the back of the shop "I'm in the back, dear, be with you in just a moment." 

Harry stopped just inside the doorway and stared in amazement. He was used to the racks of clothing, from the basic black students robes to the rich colors of the formal dress robes, even the normally small section of brighter colored clothing, but he had never seen a display like this. The size of the shop seemed to have been expanded magically, and everywhere he looked were the most garish colored robes and hats he had ever seen. Bright pink fought against turquoise, lavender and scarlet. There were stripes, prints, and even a robe of what looked like yellow and orange wool woven in a houndstooth pattern. Banners floated in a magical breeze proclaiming "1/2 off Gilderoy Lockhart Collection" "Everything Must Go" and "No Reasonable Offer Will Be Refused"

"Cor, Harry, What _IS_ this?" Ron's expression seemed to mimic Harry's thoughts perfectly.

"Dunno, did we go into the wrong shop or something?" In reality it _seemed _to be the right place, just very, very different.

"Oh, there you are love, what can I do for you?" The voice seemed to emanate from what looked like a moving pile of material. "School robes? Or perhaps I could interest you in something from the Lockhart collection…_please_?" The desperation in what turned out to be Madame Malkin weighted down with more robes than she could possibly carry, was evident.

"What, you mean…" Harry paused and looked around the shop "_this_?"

"Yes, well, I didn't think so, not really. It's not all this bad, really. Some of it is quite nice, if you have the right coloring for it." Madame Malkin's shoulders slumped in defeat.

"I kind of like this one" Ron said.

Harry looked up, although deep in his heart he just knew which one Ron had picked out. _Oh please don't let it be_. It was. Ron was sizing up the orange and yellow houndstooth robe. Worse, it had a matching pointy hat. And shoes. _Hermione is going to kill me if I let him buy that. It **would** cover his bum and his ankles, though. _

"How much?" questioned Ron.

"You _like_ that one?" Madame Malkin couldn't keep the incredulous tone from her voice for a moment. "For you love, call it even for all the good that the two of you have done in the world."

"What, you mean like, free?" Ron looked skeptical. "That would be like charity, I couldn't do that."

"I have no problems with charity" explained Madame Malkin.

Harry was confused. What did it matter what Madame Malkin thought of…_oh, she means it would be charitable of Ron to take it. Maybe for her, probably not for the rest of us._

"I…." Ron started but she shushed him quickly.

"My dear, how many people do you think come in here looking for an orange and yellow houndstooth robe, with matching hat and shoes? I'll tell you how many. Until today, one. Took me forever to find a place that made them, and then he went and stepped in front of a lorry before he could pick it up," Madame Malkin finished, looking just the least bit indignant.

"Well, yes, but. It's still not right. It must have cost you money." Ron simply refused to give in on issues like this.

"Yes dear, it did. It also costs me money to keep it here, when I could use the space to stock something else."

Harry's eyes were drawn to a nice emerald green set of robes. He walked to a rack on the far side of the room, and pulled them off the rack to examine them. Around the cuffs and the neck was a gold and black ribbon that had some sort of golden magical animals moving around on them. Harry looked closer. "Lions, that's neat." 

Madame Malkin was still arguing with Ron. She looked Harry's way as he heard him speak. "Lions? Oh, yes. Oh, dear that _does_ look good on you. It matches your eyes so well. The lions are kind of fitting, too."

"What do you mean?" questioned Ron.

"Since Harry here _is_ a Gryffindor, I just thought that the frolicking lion trim was a nice touch. It's not everyday that you find a piece of clothing that seems so personalized right off the rack."

"You know who Harry is?" Ron looked around suspiciously.

"My dear, I know who both of you are. I was a bit surprised that your other partner didn't come in with you," replied Madame Malkin.

"But, how did you…oh, I guess it's Harry's scar." Ron's brow furrowed.

"Well, that is a bit of a tip off," explained Madame Malkin. "But two fine looking boys--one with unruly black hair, glasses and yes, a scar. The other tall and handsome with bright red hair and an even brighter smile? It could only have been Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. After the things that you two, no, excuse me, you three, have done and been through lately, why, just about everyone knows who you are. You're a bit of a hero to my youngest boy, Mr. Weasley."

"Cor...." was all Ron could manage, his mouth hanging open in an expression of shock. _A hero? I'm a hero? Hmmm, Ron Weasley, Hero. I LIKE it._ Ron broke into a smile at that thought.

"I want to say thank you for all that you have done. Please. Though I do wish that you would let me pick something out that would match your hair better."

"You sound like my mum. It's Chudley Cannons colors. I love it. Though Herm…Mum probably wouldn't" Ron looked quickly to see if anyone else had caught that slip and was surprised to find that Harry was staring intently back at him. _Uh, oh_ Ron started back. "You going to buy that, mate?" Ron stared back, daring Harry to say something and pointed at the robes in Harry's hands.

"Yeah, I think I am. Aren't you having a sale?" Harry felt a little silly asking; with the banners and whatnot, people next door could tell that she was having a sale.

Yes, I am dear. Trying to get rid of some of this overstock. Seems a shame really, but nobody wants Lockhart robes anymore. Haven't sold a one since his unfortunate accident. I used to not be able to keep them on the shelves. But, enough about that, I forgot, that was probably a rather dreadful time for the two of you wasn't it?"

"Erm, yes," was all that Harry could manage. It seemed so long ago, and he had had so much worse happen since then, but the Basilisk still visited him in his nightmares occasionally. Lately, however, the dreams had changed, and instead of running from the monster, he was controlling it. Or having tea with it…but only that once, and he blamed that on some particularly old chocolate frogs he had one night.

"Well, go on, try them on, and I'll be back in a minute to tailor them." Madame Malkin turned back to the rack she was working on, and resumed hanging robes. She started to hang the last one and paused, shook it out and looked more closely at it._ Now this would look good…_

Harry and Ron emerged a few minutes later from their dressing rooms; Harry was in his green robe, carrying a cloak of black velvet lined with golden fabric and black lions. Ron had on the Cannons houndstooth and a broad smile. They examined themselves in the mirror, and then turned and examined each other. Harry could only smile; no matter what, Ron was always going to be Ron.

"Bloody hell, Harry. Now I see what my sister was so nuts about. That looks smashing." Ron's face went crimson as he thought about what he had just said. "I didn't mean it like that. I don't want to snog or anything. I just...."

"It's okay Ron. I know what you mean, and I know it's not _me_ that you want to go out with." Harry was startled, he hadn't meant to say that, it just slipped out.

"Um, yeah, right mate. About that. Umm." If it was possible, Ron turned a deeper shade of red.

"Yes? About what, exactly?" Now that it was out there, Harry was going to have some fun with it.

"About uh, you know," Ron began brushing unseen dust from his robes.

"No, can't say that I do." Harry was not going to let him off that easy. He watched as his friend struggled with how best to admit what they both knew.

"BoutmylikingHermione," Ron blurted finally.

"Come again? I didn't quite get that." Harry was enjoying this.

"I LIKE HERMIONE! OKAY! HAPPY?!!" Ron suddenly went silent as he realized how loudly that had come out. "Bloody hell, maybe Dumbledore's right, You-Know-Who did rub off on you. You're evil, mate." 

"I like her too," Harry smiled. "I think you might mean something else. Go on, get it out, you'll feel much better." Harry knew he shouldn't tease his friend this way, but he was finding that it was too much fun to stop.

"Okay, I _love_ her. From the top of her bushy little head to the tips of her stubby little toes. Is that what you wanted to hear?" Ron was really beginning to regret befriending the skinny kind with glasses.

"It's about bloody time. Now that you have faced the situation, you may devise a strategy to circumnavigate the defenses and envelop the target. Or at least I think that's how you say it." Harry wondered if he had pushed Ron too far.

"You...circumnavigate? Envelop? What are you going on about?" Ron stared at Harry with a look of incomprehension on his face.

"Walk up to her, put your arms around her, and bloody well kiss her like you mean business." Harry translated.

Ron cringed. "I don't...I _know_ I can't do that. What if she...what if she, well, didn't want to be kissed? Then what?"

Harry had to fight to keep from laughing. "Not want to be kissed? I hate to be the one to break it to you, but she has wanted to be kissed for years now."

"Yeah, but not by me...I mean, like, we're friends, right. I might kiss her when she really wants to be kissed by someone like, well, like _Krum_."

Harry laughed out loud. "Hermione has stubby toes? I didn't know that."

"Well, yeah, she does, a bit. Anyway, why are you laughing at me? I saw the way she looked at Krum at the Yule Ball. Then she went and made plans to visit him over the summer. And she's constantly getting letters from him." The more Ron spoke, the more put out he looked. "I don't see what's so funny about it."

Harry managed to get control of himself. He wasn't laughing at Ron so much as he was laughing at the images that came from what Ron had said. _Ron composing a love poem about Hermione's toes. "An Ode to Your Toes"_, he snickered once more and was about to try and explain when Madam Malkin came in carrying more robes.

"It looks even better on you," she said pointing at Harry's robes. "Just a quick nip and tuck will see you finished." She then turned to Ron. "You're sure you like this one dear?"

Ron nodded, "What's not to like? It's comfortable, it fits pretty well, and it's in Cannons colors."

"Well, it takes all kinds I guess." Madame Malkin shook her head and then seemed to remember the robes that she carried in her hands. "Oh, dear, losing my head. I found this on the rack as well, and thought that you might like to try it on. It's a bit more…dressy…than the one that you have on. It's part of the same Lockhart collection that Harry's came from." She handed the robes to Ron and started work fitting the houndstooth robes.

Ron unfolded the set of robes and found that they were an odd brownish, red-purple color. Made of the same velvet material as Harry's they looked incredibly comfortable. The cuffs were trimmed in a silver magical ribbon that depicted black dragons flying and breathing flame. The cloak that came with it was made of rich red brown velvet lined in black with silver dragons. "This _is_ nice, but there's now way that I could afford it." Ron sighed.

"You did notice the signs as you came in, didn't you? No reasonable offer. I decide what reasonable is. Since you are taking two of the Lockhart collection and the houndstooth, I can make you a pretty fine offer. The Lockharts are already buy one, get one free and I still haven't moved that many of them. Shall we say 5 galleons even for the lot?" Madame Malkin had finished Ron's alterations by this time. "Now just you go and put those on. I want to see what they look like on you," she finished in the magical tone that a mother uses to ensure there will be no more arguing.

As Ron stepped back into the changing room, Harry noticed Ron's jeans hanging over the door. He crept silently over to the door and pulled them down. He pulled Madame Malkin off to the side and said, "I don't know if you noticed...."

Madame Malkin stopped him in mid sentence, "Yes, I did. The boy just seems to grow more every year. The rest of the Weasleys seemed to have reached their height fairly early, but this one, there doesn't seem to be any stopping him. Let me see what I can do about them. These spells don't last for too long on Muggle clothing, but I'll give it a go."

"Do you know the Weasleys?" Harry questioned.

"Oh, my yes. I've known Molly and Arthur since Hogwarts. I was a year ahead of her and in Hufflepuff, but I knew she was a dear, even then." Madame Malkin smiled with the memory. "I always try to set a few of the nicer things back for when she comes in, and of course, I try and give her a 'special discount'. I think she probably knows, but she has never said anything about it. The Weasleys do have their pride, and that one," she pointed towards the back room where Ron was changing "he certainly got the full measure of it."

Harry had a sudden inspiration. "Do you think you might have something that would look really nice on a girl? Maybe one about this tall," he gestured with his hand somewhere around his chin "with red hair? I…I'd be willing to make up the difference."

This last was delivered so rapidly that it took Madame Malkin a moment to understand what he had said. "I might be able to find something like that. Any particular redhead? Do I know something the paper hasn't found out about, yet?" Madame Malkin smiled as she watched Harry blush. "Ah, young love."

"No, it's nothing like that, honest." Harry spluttered. "She's just a really good friend. And I want to do something nice for her."

Madame Malkin didn't seem very convinced, "I understand. I'll look around and see what I can find."

"Find what," called Ron as he stepped from the dressing room "and where did my trousers go, Harry?"

Harry was glad for the distraction. He really wasn't sure what he felt for Ginny. He knew that she had claimed to be madly in love with him during his second year, but that didn't mean anything now, did it? He did know she was definitely a girl. Hermione's rant when Ron asked her to the Yule Ball had made sure of that. She was probably his favorite person to be around outside of Ron and Hermione, and sometimes when he was feeling down about his fate, she was the first person that he thought of, since she knew what it was like to have Voldemort in her mind. That always seemed to make him feel better. But a _girlfriend_? He had never really thought about her that way.

"I have them right here. Now come out and let me see how you look." Madame Malkin called. 

Ron stepped out of the dressing room and Harry was shocked. Harry was used to seeing Ron in ratty old Muggle clothes, or his faded school robes. The Ron that stepped out of the dressing room looked…different. The word that came to Harry's mind was _regal_. Unconsciously he started whistling 'Weasley Is Our King' under his breath.

"Oh, yes, I think so. Let me just do up the hem and you'll be all set." Madame Malkin quickly set the length and sent Ron back to change.

Harry quickly paid for their things before Ron could come back and protest. _I'll just tell him that he can pay me later._ Harry decided that he really wanted to wear the new robes for a while. "Could I get you to wrap up my old things. I think I'm going to wear these home."

Madame Malkin took his old clothes off to package them. Harry went back to the dressing rooms to see what was taking Ron so long and found his friend standing in front of a full-length mirror.

"Ron, hello? Ron? Are you in there?" Harry waved a hand in front of his friend's face.

"This is what I looked like that day in the mirror. You remember?" Ron gazed dreamily at his reflection. "Well, we had better get dressed."

"I'm going to wear mine, and everything's paid for. You owe me two Galleons." Harry clapped Ron on the back and pushed him into the dressing room. "Now decide what you're going to wear and let's get moving. Quality Quidditch awaits."

Harry went back to the front of the store to collect his package and found Madame Malkin holding up another set of green robes. Harry immediately noticed several differences. For one thing they were a slightly darker shade of green. For another, they were quite obviously made for a girl. While the neckline was not scandalous, it was a good bit lower than the high collared affair on Harry's robes. "Very, ahhh, nice." He watched as Madame Malkin sprayed a few drops of something on the bottom of the robes and wondered what she was doing. He noticed that a few small stains had appeared where it was sprayed.

As if in response, she answered. "My own special formula. Comes off quite easily with Magical Mess Remover," she whispered conspiratorially. In a louder voice, "Oh what a shame, stained. I guess I will have to mark it down and hope someone will buy it."

Harry watched as she took the price tag dangling from a sleeve and changed the price. He couldn't help but notice that the original price was 50 galleons. He was so engrossed in staring at the dress and imagining what it would look like on Ginny that he didn't notice Ron come out of the dressing room.

"Could you wrap these up?" Ron asked from behind Harry. As he passed the clothes to Madame Malkin, Harry noticed that Ron was not wearing the clothes he came in with. He was wearing the houndstooth. Grinning at Harry, Ron said, "those others are nice, but this one just feels right. Won't Mum be surprised when she sees it?" He got his package back from Madame Malkin and turned to Harry. "Ready now."

They both thanked Madame Malkin for all her help and left the store.

***

Harry and Ron found Hermione and Ginny in the most unlikely of places. Ron spotted Hermione through the front window of Spellings SecondHand Surplus. Ron scowled as he watched her disappear into the shelves that lined the store.

"What's this place?" Harry asked. He was sure he had never been in here, nor did he think he had ever noticed the shop before.

"It's a rubbish shop. Full of secondhand junk that nobody wanted the first time. Percy used to find books in here, Mum's in here constantly looking for anything cheap." Ron watched Hermione browsing the aisles, and his face twisted into a determined grimace. He muttered, "You'll never catch me needing to shop here again," to himself. 

"Well, that explains what Hermione is doing in there. She probably heard some lonely book calling out to her to be read. Either that or she's trying to find us both copies of _Hogwarts: A History_." Harry grinned at his wit. "Come on, let's go see what they're up to. Ginny will probably want to go look at brooms if Hermione is really looking at books." Harry opened the door and stepped inside, leaving Ron no choice but to follow.

Harry immediately saw why Ron described this as a junk shop. There was just no other way to describe the collection of books, clothes, kitchenware, garden implements and the other accumulated flotsam that lined the shelves and spilled out into the aisles. Harry looked up, and saw that there were more things hanging from the ceiling. 

Ron led the way down the narrow aisle where they had last seen Hermione. "Ginny? Hermione?" He called into the darkening aisle. "Are you down there?"

It seemed to Harry that outside light was having a hard time penetrating the clutter inside the shop. The interior lighting in the shop was almost nonexistent; just a few magical torches scattered here and there. Most of the shelves in this area seemed committed to books, but there wasn't any order that he could discern. _Brew a Better Potion _was next to _A History of Goblin Financial Practice 1380-1645_, and both of these were supporting a huge leaning volume entitled _Famous Dark Wizards and How They Got That Way: A Pop-Up Story Book._ Harry looked at the shelves to the other side and saw that they were full of what looked to be shallow wooden boxes of a book. Some had faded paper covers over them, and others were just bare wood. Harry picked one up at random and examined it. It was about the size of a good hardback book, made of wood and painted in garish purple and orange. Printed on the face of it was _The Street Urchins Live in Lockerbie_. "Ron, what are these?" Harry asked holding the box up.

Ron turned and looked. "Harry, we're supposed to be looking for Hermione and Ginny."

Harry caught up to Ron and handed the box to him. "Well, what is it?"

"Oh, they're wizard recordings. Really old format, they haven't used this one in years. The new ones are much smaller and they don't wear out over time like these." He flipped the recording over. "See, this one says it was released in 1979. Really old wizards sometimes use these for spellbooks. It's easier than enlarging the book to a size that they can read."

"Oh, like Muggles' books on tape. How do they work?" Harry was intrigued. He had heard some music on the Wizard Radio Network, but it always seem to be the same few songs over and over. His cousin Dudley had owned a CD player, but Harry had never been allowed to use it, and Dudley always kept the door shut so Aunt Petunia wouldn't hear the lyrics of the 'music' he liked to listened to.

"Let's see if I remember how to make these work." Ron pulled his wand and pointed it at the front of the box, "_Obfuscate,_" he said and light shot from the end of his wand to the box, which promptly disappeared. "Oops…that's not right. He picked up another box, "_Oppora," _he tried and was rewarded this time with a burst of white noise from the box. "Hmmm, looks like this one is blank," he said and tossed it back on the shelf. He grabbed another box at random and tried it. An upbeat melody started playing.

Harry looked at the box and tried to think. That song sounded familiar. It brought to mind the oddest things though…_Nazis and…NUNS? Oh, cripes…what is that?_ A man singing…off key, even to Harry's untrained ear had joined the melody. Again, the voice sounded familiar, he listened more closely. "…sleighbells, and whiskers on kittens, brown paper packages tied up with string, These are a few of my favorite things."

Ron suddenly set the box back on a shelf as he caught sight of Hermione moving at the far end of the aisle. "Hermione, wait up!" he called and ran off.

Harry was concentrating on where he had heard that voice before. He finally figured out that the song was from some silly movie that Aunt Petunia liked watching on the television. He picked the box up off the shelf and glanced at the cover, then flipped it over and stared open mouthed at the title. _Snape Sings: A Collection of Favorites_. Harry flipped it over again to be sure that he hadn't imagined it. On the back was a picture of his potions master, Severus Snape. Snape was wearing torn up black robes with a deep V for the neckline exposed half his chest. He had what looked like a piece of chain with a lock through it for a necklace, and his oily black hair had been spiked. The face in the picture, though a good deal younger, left no doubt as to identity when Harry saw that familiar sneer. 

"Ron! RON!! This is it! I know what we're going to do!" Harry yelled as he ran down the aisle, box in hand, to find his friends.

***

"It's what? Who? Harry, are you raving? What do you mean Snape is singing? You mean like _our_ Snape?" Ron took the still singing box out of Harry's hand and looked. "Bloody hell, oops, sorry Hermione, but…"

Hermione waved her wand at the box and muttered, "Finite" The music stopped. "Bloody hell is about right Ron. I'll never watch that musical the same way again."

"I'm buying it," Harry said. "This is too good. Padfoot would have loved this. I wonder if he ever heard it. I wonder if Remus knows about this."

Harry tucked the box under his arm and looked at Hermione. "So, what are you doing in here?"

"Looking for a book, and I found it. We stopped at Flourish and Blotts and they didn't have it, they said it had been out of print for decades. But then one of the clerks said that she thought she remembered seeing a copy in some secondhand store, and Ginny knew right where this place was and here we are and we found it and..."Hermione finally paused for a breath, but before she could continue, Harry cut her off.

"See I told you. Looking for a book." Harry smirked at Ron.

"Well, yes, but this is a special book. Just wait 'til you see Harry. It's a surprise of sorts. I really think that you are going to like it though. I just have to find a few more items and then I can start to work. Oh this is going to be so much fun." Hermione looked as if she was about to burst trying to keep her own secret.

"I don't suppose you know what this is all about?" Harry asked Ginny.

"Well, yes, I do. Hermione swore me to secrecy though, so unless you want to be on the wrong end of one of my curses, I'd leave it alone." Ginny replied haughtily. "It's about time to go meet mum," she added.

Ginny and Hermione headed for the front of the store to pay for Hermione's book. After they had gone, Ron looked at the way Harry was clutching the recording and said, "You've got plans for that don't you?"

Harry smiled evilly, "Oh yes, I do. I think it's time for us to get into the music business." With that he left Ron standing in the aisle and went to pay for his purchase.

Ron quickly caught up with Harry and whispered to him, "two things, mate. First, you're not going to say anything to Hermione, are you?"

Harry stopped. He thought about what Ron was asking for a moment and replied, "I won't tell her anything." _He didn't say anything about telling Ginny, though._

Ron looked relieved, "Second, you know mum's going to kill me if I get expelled."

"I promise not to get you expelled." _Detention for the rest of the year perhaps, but Dumbledore probably wouldn't expel us for blowing up the great hall._ Harry thought to himself. "Now let's go and find your mum."


	6. Chapter 6

****

Harry Potter and the Singing Professor - Chapter 6

Harry and Ron followed Ginny and Hermione back to Flourish and Blotts. As expected, Molly was standing in front of the store, looking worried. She breathed an obvious sigh of relief when she saw the group. 

"Where have you been? I've been worried sick," she quickly asked Ginny. "I've been waiting here thinking that something had happened."

"Mum, we did say two hours. It hasn't even been that long," chided Ron. "Honestly, you would think we got into trouble every time you let us out of your sight." 

Harry winced. While what Ron said wasn't exactly true, it did seem that they had an awful amount of trouble when unsupervised. Quick to keep Mrs. Weasley off the same line of thought, Harry said, "We stopped in and bought some new robes. Madam Malkin is having a big sale." 

Molly's gaze turned to Harry. "Oh, Harry dear, they're lovely. They do so match your eyes. Come here, let me see." She looked Harry up and down and gave him a tap on the shoulder to turn him around. Once her inspection was complete, she looked up, and her mouth fell open as she saw her son. "Ronald Weasley, what ARE you wearing?" 

Ron grinned and stepped where his mother could get a better view. "Like it?" He twirled around once for his mother. "Madam Malkin said it was one of a kind."

Molly grimaced. "Well, it is certainly...bright. At least you bought it with your money. Maybe that will teach you to take care of your clothes. Honestly, burning a perfectly good robe." 

Harry tried to cover the grin that was spreading across his face. "Mrs. Weasley, Madame Malkin said to tell you that she had some special things laid aside, if you wanted to come see." Harry decided that this was close enough to the truth.

"Well, books first, and then maybe we can go down there." Molly led the group into the bookstore.

Inside, the store was as crammed with people as it always was when Harry was here. Students and parents formed a sea of humanity, and Harry began to feel a little claustrophobic. He hadn't been this close to this many people in nearly a year, and it made him nervous. Deep down in his mind, he couldn't help but feel that any second now, someone was going to attack him. Voldemort's premature exposure and the battle in the Ministry had lost him some of his inner circle, but Harry knew that there were still plenty of Death Eaters unknown and unsuspected. 

Harry was quickly separated from the rest of his group, and he went to find his books for the coming year. His decision to pursue a career as an Auror dictated most of the books that he would need. Advanced Potions was the first, and Harry cringed as he picked up the book. _Two more years with Snape. At least now I know his deep, dark secret._ Transfiguration was next, followed by Charms, and Care of Magical Creatures, his only elective course. Harry passed the Divination and History sections by, glad that he no longer had to deal with those classes. Two slim volumes were on his list for Defense Against the Dark Arts: _Hexes: A How-to Guide_ and _Curses, Foiled Again: A Guide for the Modern-Day Wizard._ Harry flipped through the pages of these as he waited in line to pay. From the look of these books, Defense was going to be more like offense this year. While the books did have counter curses and ways to stop hexes, they also explained quite fully how to cast the spells themselves. While Harry had learned a few hexes while he was training during his fourth year, and researched a few more for his role in the DA, he saw that some of the ones in these books looked quite advanced. Not to mention dangerous. Harry had a sudden urge to try a few on Draco. _Hmmm, this is an interesting one, 'being a curse to make your target lose control of their bladder', that could be useful._

Harry's musings were interrupted when Ron and Molly joined him. Ron was carrying a stack of books about the same size as Harry's. Molly had a stack of books that Harry recognized as Ginny's fifth year texts under her arm. Ginny and Hermione staggered up a moment later with two enormous stacks of books between them.

Harry looked at the pile incredulously. "Ginny, why have you got so many books?" he asked.

Ginny shrugged and tried to rebalance her pile. "They're not mine, they're Hermione's." The topmost book shifted, and Ginny reached out to try and catch it.

Harry caught the book in midair, and laid it purposefully on top of the pile that Hermione was carrying. He turned and looked at Ron, "Well, now I know what we'll do for Quidditch training this year. We'll just take turns following Hermione to class."

Ron laughed, "Hermione, these can't possibly all be for classes. You won't have time to sleep."

"I am taking more classes than you two are," Hermione replied. "And some of them are for an independent study that I'm working on."

Molly stepped in before the fighting could get any worse. "Why don't you all give me your books and I'll see that they get home. Go on to Fred and George's, and I'll meet you there in a few minutes." Molly took everyone's books, piled them all in a stack and levitated them onto the counter. Harry and Hermione handed her their money, and the group of four turned to leave. As they were walking away, Molly called out, "And no more fighting."

***

The group walked up the street toward Fred and George's shop. Hanging proudly over the doorway was an obviously new sign that read "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes: The One Stop For All Your (practical) Joking Needs". Harry pushed open the door and stepped inside. Harry glanced around the room and his first impression was that this didn't look like a store run by a couple of 18 year-old wizards. The store looked, well, professional. It also looked deserted.

"Hullo, Fred? George?" Harry called.

A moment later the twins stepped through the door behind the counter. They caught sight of their customers and huge grins spread across their faces.

"Harry," George called out, "how lovely to see you."

"How is our best silent partner?" asked Fred.

"Wow, this place looks great," said Harry. "I didn't quite know what to expect, but this is great."

"Well, nothing's too good for friends and family," smiled Fred. "Let's go back into the workshop and I'll show you some of our newest ideas. Then you can have a look at the books, and we've got a bag of money for you around here somewhere."

"Fred, I told you. I don't need the money. I'd much rather see you put it back into the store," exclaimed Harry.

"Well, if you insist. What about the rest of you? Anyone need a bag of money? Shame to let it go to waste? Maybe we could use it to buy little brother here some...new...robes...." George stopped as he got his first good look at Ron. "Dear brother, what ARE you wearing?"

Ron stepped up and shook Fred and George's hands as he smiled widely at them. "Just got 'em today. What do you think?"

Fred reacted first, "Well, I think they look splendid. Who ever said that you can't wear yellow and orange together?"

Ginny stepped up next and hugged her older brothers. When she finished with George, she said, "Hermione said that she needed some advice from you two."

George looked at Hermione. "What can we do you for?" he asked. 

Hermione hesitated, "Well, it's kind of private, but I found this new book and...."

George waved his hand toward the back room and said, "Shall we step back here and discuss it?"

Hermione, Ginny and George walked to the back room and closed the door. Harry tried to listen for a moment, but all he could hear was Hermione going on breathlessly and George exclaiming, "brilliant".

Ron had stepped away and was browsing the aisles, so Harry sat down on one of the stools in front of the counter. He debated telling Fred about the recording, but decided that he would keep it a secret for now. He felt that he could probably ask for a little general advice though.

Fred took his time arranging his side of the counter. When Ron was no longer in earshot, he glanced at Harry. "I had better warn you about some of the things in your birthday present."

Harry nodded, "I recognized everything but the 'Love Bombs'. Do I want to know what they do?"

Fred looked innocently at Harry, "Nothing too bad. They're a bit like Dung Bombs. You toss them, and it's an area effect. Rather than a cloud of stinking gas, though, it releases a vapor that causes anyone who gets a whiff to act on repressed emotions. It won't make you fall in love with someone, though we're working on that. If you've got any secret feelings for someone, they're coming out. It lasts about a day. We were thinking you might drop one on little brother there, kind of speed things up a bit. They're still experimental; we don't sell those to the public yet, so if you could take notes, it would be a help."

Harry smiled, anything that would move Ron and Hermione along would probably be a blessing. Even if it was experimental and caused one or both of them to grow a second head or an extra hand.

Harry decided that now would be the best time to ask for some advice. He had a plan, but he wasn't sure how best to accomplish it. If anyone would know, it was one of the twins.

"Um, Fred, could I ask you something?" Harry asked.

"Sure, what is it?" Fred replied.

"Well, you know how Professor Flitwick teaches the suits of armor to sing carols every Christmas?" questioned Harry.

"Sure, I remember one year where he didn't get finished and Peeves decided to fill in some of the gaps. Bloody good carols, if you ask me," Fred finally caught on, "or are you asking if I know how to teach the armor to sing?"

"Well, both, I guess," said Harry. He began to wonder if this was such a good idea. He didn't really want to let Fred in on the prank; this was going to be something for Ron and him to do together, but it would be easier getting the spell from Fred than looking it up. Or worse, asking Hermione.

"As a matter of fact, I do. We had a pretty good song about Umbridge written last year, but there just wasn't enough time. Sort of a shame, really." Fred pulled a well-worn book from under the counter. He flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. "Now, let's see.... Do you want it to sing in it's own voice, or in yours? Here, I'll tell you what, I'll just give them both to you."

Harry looked closely at the book. It appeared to have been made of different types and sizes of parchment, and all hand written. The binding was inexpertly done, and there were little colored flags stuck to most of the pages. The whole thing had a very homemade quality about it. "What is that book?" he asked.

Fred smiled, "This, Harry, is the result of a lifetime of diligent toil in the fine arts of joking. Mum figures we never really did anything while we were in school, but all those times that you didn't see us, we were probably locked in the library. With a bit of research and effort, we found practical applications for hundreds of spells and potions that would help us in our chosen career field. This book is the Holy Grail of the joking world. It's also one of our biggest selling services of late. Guy like you walks in, says he wants to do something special to his friend for his birthday. We do a bit of research, and he walks out a happy customer. Type of spell and complexity sets the price. It's a growing business. You've got to figure that the jokee is going to remember, and next _he'll_ be wanting a bit of help." Fred leaned back in his chair and smiled.

Harry was impressed. He had always wondered how Fred and George got the ideas for their pranks. It was obvious to Harry that there were hundreds of spells and recipes in the book. Harry took the sheet of parchment that Fred handed him and folded it up. 

Ron returned to the counter with an armload of stuff. He dumped it all on the counter and scowled at Fred, "It was hard deciding what to get, I didn't have enough money to get everything that I wanted. How about below cost for relatives?"

Fred laughed. He got out of his chair and opened the door to the back room. "Oi, George, Ron wants to know if we'll sell to him at below cost?"

George, Ginny and Hermione stepped out of the workshop. "Ron, you didn't believe that we were really going to charge you, did you?" George snickered. "We were just having you on, mate." 

Ron turned red and scowled at his brothers, then a smile broke across his face, and he headed back into the aisles.

"Mind, try not to put us out of business," called Fred.

Hermione nodded at George and said, "Thank you, George. I wasn't sure about how the metal would react; you saved me having to experiment until I found the right combination."

"No problem, just remember, Fred and I get our pick from the first batch," said George.

Harry followed the conversation without understanding a word of it. "What are you two talking about? Or is this that big secret that Hermione can obviously tell everyone but Harry?"

Hermione looked slightly hurt, "Harry, it's a surprise. You'll see in a little while. Besides, Ron doesn't know, either."

"Ron doesn't know what?" said Ron returning to the counter with another armload.

George was quickest this time, "Most everything, it would seem."

***

Molly apparated into the store a few minutes later. "I dropped your books back at the Burrow. Please make sure that you get them off the table when we get back. We're going to be crowded for dinner tonight, and I need all the room I can get."

Fred and George stepped out from behind the counter and advanced on Molly. They simultaneously wrapped her in a hug. "Hi, Mum," they chorused.

Molly pushed them back and studied them. "So, how are you two? Really, I wish you would both move back home. It looks like you aren't getting enough to eat, and living in a workshop. That's no way to behave."

"Mum, we've been over this before. We're perfectly happy living here. It means that we aren't always under your feet, and we can work on new ideas whenever they strike us. Last I heard, you still didn't like explosions at four in the morning," Fred said.

"And besides, we're highly eligible bachelors, and men about town. We can't bring girls back to our _parents_ house," added George with a smile.

"Well, the least you can do is come to dinner tonight. It's the last chance you'll have to see Ron and Ginny before Christmas." Molly hesitated and then continued, "and I'm not sure I want you messing about with any, any...scarlet woman that was willing to come back to this place. Proper young ladies should be saying goodnight and going back to _their _parents house, I should think."

Fred and George burst out laughing. "Stop it Mum, you're killing us...scarlet woman," said Fred and then broke into snickers again.

George was the first to recover. "Really Mum, we promise not to make you a grandmother quite yet. Dinner would be great, though. Say about nine?"

Molly looked aghast at her son, "Nine? You boys don't really wait that late to eat do you? It's unhealthy. We will be eating at six. Just as soon as your father gets home from work. Or at least we will if I can get these four home so that I can start dinner."

Ron put his loot into a sack and said, "Thanks, guys. Say, if you show up early, bring your brooms. We can go out to the field and fly a bit before Dad gets home. I need to get my edge back before practice starts at school. Wouldn't want the team to see me off form."

George looked puzzled. He said, "Ron, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't the entire team standing in this shop right now?" 

Ron suddenly looked dismayed, but then his face brightened. "No, as a matter of fact it's not. There's still Kirke and Sloper."

George raised his eyebrows and turned to Fred, "Who?" he said.

"Those two idiots that they replaced us with," replied Fred.

"Oh, yeah, right, them. Maybe we ought to start working on some kind of helmet spell to protect Harry," said George.

Ron retorted indignantly, "They're not that bad."

Ginny's eyes flew wide at Ron's statement. "What do you mean, 'they're not that bad?' Do you remember the bludger that nearly knocked me off my broom during the Hufflepuff game? For that matter, do you remember the one that got you at practice? Both of which they hit, as I recall."

Ron looked chagrined, "Well, okay, maybe they are that bad, but they're still on the team. Unless someone convinces them to quit. So are you going to come play or not?"

Fred shook his head and said, "Sorry little brother, it's going to be close as is. We've got to close up the shop. Besides, it looked like rain last time I checked."

Ron's shoulders slumped. "Okay, well, maybe a game of chess then." He looked expectantly at Harry.

Molly's voice cut through the conversation. "Time to go you four. Fred, George, be there as soon as you can please. I don't want to have to wait dinner on the two of you." With that, Molly herded the four teens out the door of the shop and back to the fireplace at The Leaky Cauldron.

***

Harry followed Ginny out of the kitchen fire at the Burrow. He crossed the room and looked out the window over the sink. Like Fred said, it looked like it was going to rain. While the sky had been gray all afternoon, it looked positively leaden now. Harry went back to the kitchen table and picked up his stack of schoolbooks. He followed Ron up the stairs and quickly deposited the books into his trunk.

Ron tossed his books on the bed and turned to Harry. "So, how about a game of chess?"

Harry shrugged, "I suppose. I'll lose for sure, though. My pieces have been stuck in the bottom of my trunk since we left school." He dug through his trunk until his hands found the velvet bag of chess pieces, which he set on the corner of the bed.

A knock at the door interrupted Harry as he was convincing his knights not to defect to Ron's side of the board. Ginny poked her head in the door and said, "Harry, can I see you out here for a minute?"

Harry stood up. "Okay," he said to Ginny. "Ron, try to get the little buggers back where they belong, please."

He stepped out into the cramped hallway and asked, "What's up?"

Ginny twisted the edge of a sleeve nervously in her hand, "Well, I was wondering if you would...if I could...can I borrow your broomstick for a little while? There's still a little time before it starts to rain, and I promise that I'll take really good care of it, and I'll even clean it up and polish it after." Ginny finally stopped to take a breath.

Harry hesitated for only a second. His Firebolt was his favorite possession, having been a gift from Sirius, but if there was anyone that he could trust with his broom, it was Ginny. "Sure, just watch out for the top of the handle; it gets kind of slippery when it gets wet. It's by the kitchen door, with Ron's."

Ginny smiled, and her eyes flashed with excitement. "Thanks, Harry," she said and gave him a little hug before sprinting down the stairs. Harry stood dazed in the hallway, reliving the softness of her body pressed to his. He shook his head after a moment and went back into Ron's room.

"What was that about?" Ron asked. He looked up at Harry and added, "I got them back where they belong; sometimes you just have to talk nicely to them."

"Hmm? Oh, thanks. I don't have anyone to play with at home, and what with everything else, I didn't have time to see to them." Harry said distractedly.

"So, are you going to tell me what Ginny wanted, or not?" replied Ron.

"She just wanted to ask if she could borrow something. So, my move?" Suddenly Harry didn't want to admit that he had loaned his broom to Ginny.

Harry absentmindedly moved a pawn forward. Through Ron's open window, he could hear Ginny and Hermione talking as they left the house. He strained to hear what was being said, but all he could make out was Hermione saying, "...if this doesn't get his attention, then I'll just have to...."

Ron forced his pawns to beat up on one of Harry's unsuspecting bishops, and said, "Harry, you're not even trying. No wonder your pieces don't trust you."

Ron's words broke Harry's reverie, and as he glanced down at the board, he realized that Ron had decimated his army without any real effort. Harry tried to get his mind back on the game, but each time he would drift back to wondering what Hermione was talking about. It was obvious to Harry that it had to be Ron's attention that she was trying to get. He just hoped that whatever she was planning wouldn't be too dangerous. 


	7. Chapter 7

****

Harry Potter and the Singing Professor - Chapter 7

__

A/N: Several things to communicate here. First, thanks to Delylah for her help with the Taffy Owls and general good advice. Second, it is suggested that you not drink anything while reading this chapter. My wonderful beta, Aggiebell, blames me for the Coke stains on her monitor. Enjoy.

Thenext morning dawned warm and clear. Molly had the children up just after dawn doing all their last minute sorting and packing. Harry tossed his clothes and wizard robes in his trunk in one big wad. He covered the clothes with his schoolbooks and materials. He stuffed his cauldron full of new potions materials and jammed it in around the books. Finally, when he determined that he had everything, he closed the lid as best he could, and sat on the box.

"Ron, give me a hand here, please." Harry fought against the mass of objects in an attempt to keep the lid closed. 

"I'm not sure this is going to work," said Ron. He eyed the gap between the lid and the latches and said, "Maybe if we both sit on it." He nudged Harry to one side, and sat down on top of the trunk. "Okay, check your side, I think I can get this one closed."

Harry reached down and snapped the latch on his side closed. "Maybe on day I'll learn to make the clothes fold themselves. Either that or I am going to have to start travelling lighter."

Ron hopped off the box. "Okay now for mine, " he said and motioned towards the gaping maw of his own trunk.

They made short work of Ron's trunk. One more pass around the room convinced Harry that they had gotten everything. Harry picked up Hedwig's empty cage and one end of his trunk and headed for the stairs.

-BUMP-BUMP-BUMP- Harry and Ron descended the stairs dragging their heavy boxes and banging them on each stair. No sooner had they reached the bottom of the stairs than they heard Hermione and Ginny coming down. The trunks floated lazily behind the two girls and when they reached the foot of the stairs, the trunks touched down softly on the floor.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry and Ron, and said, "Really, after five years at Hogwarts, you would think that you two would know how to do a simple levitation spell. Mrs. Weasley is going to be furious when she sees what you two did to the paint." 

Ron's eyes bugged out and his jaw dropped. He quickly ran back up the stairs, looking carefully at the walls to see what damage he had caused. Hermione smiled as she watched him go. 

Harry looked at Hermione and said, "We didn't really do any damage to the paint, did we?" He paused for a moment, "We're still not supposed to do magic outside of Hogwarts. Who would have thought little miss prefect would be a secret rule breaker?" He chuckled as Hermione stared him down.

"There is so much magic going on here everyday, there's no way they are going to check who did a levitation charm here. It's not like I was casting an Unforgivable Curse, or something," Hermione said indignantly.

Ginny said, "She's right. We do little spells all the time. I know I couldn't make it through the day without some magic. Summers must be horrible for you." Ginny looked embarrassed, and said "I guess that's probably not the worst thing about your summers though, huh?"

Harry shrugged. "It's just one of a long list of things that I hate about summers. Not doing magic would be easy if I didn't have to put up with the Dursleys."

Ron came back down the stairs, followed by Molly. "You were just having me on, weren't you, Hermione?" he said. 

Molly looked around at the four teens. "Everyone got everything? I'm not sure Errol is up to a long flight, you'll just have to do without if you forget something. Okay, everyone, trunks in the yard, the cars should be here soon. Harry, Ron, Hermione, make sure you have your animals."

The four levitated their trunks and floated them outside. Harry and Ron turned around and went back in to retrieve Hedwig and Pigwidgeon. As Harry was going through the door, Crookshanks slipped out between his legs and calmly climbed into his travelling basket. "Bloody weirdest cat I've ever seen," Harry said to himself.

Two cars arrived in front of the Burrow a few minutes later. Arthur Weasley climbed out from behind the wheel of the first car and bowed deeply. "Your chariots await, fair ladies and gentlemen," he called to the group.

"Dad! I didn't know you were coming," exclaimed Ron.

"Yes, well, the normal driver wasn't sure that he could find the place without help, so I volunteered to come along. The Minister told me I could drive, so here I am. It seems that for the most part, I am back in the good graces of the Minister's office," said Arthur.

Harry and Ron loaded their trunks into the second car and installed their owls in the back seats. They turned to help Hermione and Ginny and found that they were already loaded and sitting in the car. Ron turned to Harry and said, "Guess we're not needed." They climbed into the backseat and buckled up.

Harry spent the first part of the ride to King's Cross staring out the window and wondering what the year had in store for him. Transfiguration should be interesting this year, and Dark Arts looked to be particularly useful. The only black mark Harry could see would be potions with Snape. Potions had never been fun, and Advanced Potions was sure to be unbearable. Harry stared out the window and watched the countryside fly by. 

Suddenly what Arthur Weasley had said got through to Harry. He turned and asked Ron, "What did your dad mean by 'for the most part, he was back in the good graces of the Minister's office.'"

Ron looked down at the floor before answering. "I guess he was talking about Percy. Prat still isn't being very civil. Mum has spoken to him a time or two, but he ignores Dad anytime that they have to be near each other. Refuses to admit that he was wrong, even though Fudge has."

Harry was shocked, and ashamed that he had brought it up. He knew that Percy had been a sore spot for the whole family last year, but he expected that they would have patched things up by now. Harry couldn't help but remember Percy's letter to Ron last year, and he wholeheartedly agreed with Ron. Percy was being a prat.

The rest of the trip was made in relative silence, and before long the cars pulled up in front of the King's Cross station. Harry checked his watch. It was half past ten; they had plenty of time to get to the platform and get loaded.

Arthur and Molly went and got carts to help haul the trunks through the station. Harry idly wondered what the Muggles must think. Several hundred children were walking through the station with trunks and owls and frogs and whatever else they had decided to take along. Harry loaded his trunk and Hedwig onto his cart and began the walk to the platform.

***

Harry stood in front of the wall between platforms nine and ten. He glanced up at the station clock and saw that it was a quarter 'til eleven. _There is no wall; there is no wall. _Every year it was the same. He looked at the very solid looking bricks and remembered running into them in his second year. Not wanting to repeat that day, he made sure that he and Ron were the first through the barrier. Summoning up his courage, he took a run at the wall and closed his eyes. When he sensed that he had passed through the barrier he opened them and found himself staring at the familiar scarlet and black train. _Home_, he thought. He realized now that his determination to give up the wizarding world this summer had been doomed to fail. There was no way that he could not go back. Passing through the barrier at the train station, even more than visiting Diagon Alley, reminded him that the only life he really had was on this side of the wall. 

Harry stepped out of the way as he heard Ron come crashing through the barrier, followed closely by Hermione and Ginny. Arthur and Molly strolled through at a much more sedate pace.

Molly counted heads, "Everyone here? Good."

The group moved down the platform looking for a likely looking coach. Harry spotted a small newsstand selling both the Quibbler and the Daily Prophet. He stopped and motioned for the rest of the group to keep moving.

He picked up the Quibbler and quickly thumbed through it. On the cover was a badly drawn picture of an animal. A large headline stated "Snorkack Sighted in Devonshire". Harry checked the rest of the articles and decided that it would be good for a laugh. He picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet as well, hoping the salesman wouldn't think he was a complete loon. He paid for his purchases and was rewarded with a, "have a good trip, Mr. Potter." It never ceased to amaze Harry when people recognized him. He briefly considered wearing a bandage over his scar, to see if it made any difference. 

Harry quickly found the rest of the group and carried Hedwig to the compartment that they had found. He set her cage down in one of the racks and promised to let her out as soon as he had returned with his trunk. One more trip between the platform and the compartment had Harry ready to go, and true to his word he opened Hedwig's cage and allowed her to step out onto his hand.

Ron and Hermione entered the compartment next, arguing, as usual.

"Ron, that's not the sort of thing we should be encouraging. I don't know what you thought you were doing just standing there," said Hermione.

"Hermione, the train hasn't even left yet. Give the kids a break. They were just getting settled in," Ron shot back.

Harry looked at the two and said, "No, forget it, I don't want to know. Have you seen any of the others?"

It was plain who Harry was talking about. What had started out as a close knit group of three had expanded to include three others. Ginny was just a natural addition, being Ron's sister, but Neville and Luna had shared in the last adventure, as well.

"No, Ginny was down the train talking to Dean, but I haven't seen Neville or Luna," Hermione offered.

"I don't know what she sees in that guy," Ron muttered. "It's not like he wrote her all summer."

Hermione looked at Ron, "He's your friend. Besides, It's none of your business what happens between them."

Ron scowled, "He may be my friend, but he's not good enough for my sister."

Hermione nodded, "From what I can tell, according to you, nobody is good enough for her." 

Ron tried to defend himself. "That's not true; she just hasn't met the right guy yet."

Hermione snorted. "You can be such a pig." She turned and left the compartment.

Ron looked at Harry, "What did I do? You think that Dean's not right for Ginny, right?"

Harry was caught short, "Ron, I'm not going to get into this. She's not my sister." Harry turned to the window. He had never really thought about who was right for Ginny. He knew, down deep that Ron was right for Hermione, but that was different. He wasn't related to Hermione; he just thought of her as a sister. Harry sighed and put that line of thought aside for now.

A tentative knock on the door brought Harry's attention back to the present. Neville Longbottom stood at the door, looking like he had lost his best friend. _But then, Neville always looks like he's lost something_. Harry grimaced at the thought; true or not, it wasn't the nicest thought. Harry decided that it looked like Neville really needed a friend right now. "Come on in Neville, there's room."

Neville entered and quickly shut the door behind him. He flopped down on the bench beside Harry and let out a tremendous sigh.

Harry looked at Neville and saw what might have been the start of a tear forming in his eye. "Neville, is there something wrong? Trevor alright?"

Neville reached into his pocket and pulled out his toad. "Trevor's fine. It's just...well, it's nothing."

Ron looked up from the bag he was carrying. "Neville, after what we've been through together, you can tell us."

Neville tensed momentarily and then relaxed. "It's just, I was walking down the train looking for a place to sit. I saw Luna and waved at her, but she ignored me. She was sitting with a bunch of Ravenclaws and...and that boy Michael whathisname. He was sitting really close to her."

"Corner," said Ron. "One of these days I am going to have a talk with him."

Harry looked at Ron and then at Neville, "Neville, I wouldn't worry too much. Last I heard, Michael and Cho were an item. I'm sure that she just didn't see you."

Neville looked up at Harry relief in his eyes, "You think so? Maybe I didn't wave enough. I was sure she must have seen me, and then Trevor got away and I looked away, and she hadn't turned around."

Harry wondered how he had become the expert on matters of the heart. He had been out with a girl exactly twice, and both times it had ended in disaster. "Tell you what, Neville. If she doesn't come down here in a while, then you and Ron and I will go looking for her. How about that?"

"Thanks, Harry," said Neville.

By the time that Ginny and Hermione had returned, the train had pulled away from the station and was heading out across open farmland. Ginny came in and sat down beside Ron, with Crookshanks in her arms. Hermione, however, stuck her head in the door and said, "Ron, they want us in the prefect's car. Come on."

Ron sighed and stood up. "A prefect's work is never done." He followed Hermione out into the hallway and up the train.

Harry, Ginny, and Neville sat in silence for several minutes. Harry could tell that Neville was getting anxious. Neville was alternately checking his watch and staring out into the hallway every few minutes. He had just started to stand up when Harry saw Luna knock politely on the door and step inside. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. All he really wanted to do was sit here and wait for the inevitable visit from Malfoy. Harry had been reading up and was fairly sure that he could make the rest of Malfoy's trip embarrassing. 

Luna sat down beside Neville. Harry watched as they smiled at one another and retreated into their own worlds.

__

Weird girl, But if Neville likes her, good for him. 

"Oh look at the little owl," said Luna.

Harry looked up and saw Luna pointing to the window. He checked, and there was a tiny owl fluttering in the slipstream of the train. Harry first thought it was Pigwidgeon, but he was safely in his cage. Harry opened the window, and the little owl flew inside and landed on Harry's shoulder. Hedwig squawked indignantly and flew back up to her cage. Harry pulled the owl off his shoulder and realized that it was sticky.

"What is this?" he said. Harry held the owl up for the others to see and removed the message tied to its leg.

Luna looked closely at the owl. "Ohh, I know what that is, it's one of those new 'taffy owls'. I've seen them in the stores, but I hadn't seen one in use before." 

"Taffy owls?" Harry questioned.

"Yes, they're made by the same people that make the chocolate frogs and the super frogs. They're owls made of taffy. They are good for one delivery, though I hear the range isn't very long." Luna looked around proudly. 

Harry examined the owl more closely. It was indeed made of taffy. Harry bit a leg off. "Mmm... shnozhbewwies." he said with his mouth full.

Hedwig's indignant squawking got louder. Harry looked up, chewing thoughtfully. She caught his eye and began to flap and screech. Harry looked down at the taffy owl in his hand, and realized what it must look like to her. He reached up and she backed as far from his hand as she could. 

"Don't worry, girl. It's candy, see." Harry held the legless owl out for Hedwig to inspect. She finally calmed down and allowed Harry to stroke her head.

Harry sat back down and opened the letter.

__

Harry,

Every time I see you my heart starts to melt just like this owl. I'll be watching you, hoping that one day you'll melt for me too.

Your secret admirer

The note was unsigned and had been written with a calligraphy quill to disguise the handwriting. Harry looked around to see if anyone else had seen the note, to his relief Neville and Luna were deeply engrossed in staring at each other, and Ginny was watching a flock of geese land in a field outside the window. Harry folded the note and stuffed it into his pocket. He turned away from the group and split the remainder of the owl into equal pieces, which he shared with everyone.

***

Sometime later Harry was watching the countryside roll by, half listening to Ginny and Luna give Neville a hard time with some quiz out of the latest Quibbler. Harry doubted that you could tell if your children would be squibs by answering a bunch of questions from a magazine. 

Neville suddenly exclaimed, "What do you mean how do I eat a chocolate frog? I bite the legs off first, just like everyone else." 

Harry propped his feet up on the seat beside him and tried to ignore the absurd conversation. He was watching some particularly interesting cows pass by when he heard the compartment door open. He started to turn and see who had entered when he heard the all too familiar tones of Draco Malfoy.

"Well, if it isn't Potty, the freak, the squib, and a weasel. Where's the other two then? Probably locked in a closet somewhere," said Draco. 

Draco's two goons, Crabbe and Goyle, laughed appreciatively. 

"Sod off, Malfoy. I'm in no mood," said Harry, without turning away from the window. 

"What are you planning for this year? Going to see if you can get Slytherin house arrested?" spat Malfoy.

"I didn't get anyone arrested. It's not my fault that they're Death Eaters. It's not my fault they broke into a secure area at the Ministry. It's certainly not my fault that they tried to kill me. Now shove off before I get someone to turn you back into a ferret," said Harry calmly.

"That's it, Potter," said Malfoy. 

Harry could see Malfoy's reflection in the window. He watched as Draco reached for his wand, but Harry was already prepared for this. Without bothering to turn, he tucked his wand under his arm and said, "_Eximo Urina."_

The rest of the compartment burst into laughter as a large puddle began to form at Draco's feet. Malfoy looked ready to launch himself at Harry, but settled for, "You'll pay for that, Potter," and stormed away. 

Harry turned away from the window for the first time and looked at the still open door and the puddle in the middle of the hallway. He looked at the shock and amusement on everyone's face and smiled himself. "Maybe that wasn't the best hex for a confined space," and got up. He muttered "_Scourgify,"_ and shut the door.

Harry spent most of the rest of the train ride chatting and laughing with his friends. When Ron and Hermione finally returned, Neville was quick to inform them of what happened with Malfoy. Ron laughed, and Hermione scolded Harry for what he had done. Soon, night had fallen, and it was time to get dressed for the feast. 

The girls took over the compartment, forcing Harry, Ron and Neville out into the corridor. Ron suggested that they take the time to wander the train and catch up with their other friends. Harry spotted Seamus and Lavender sitting alone in a compartment laughing with each other. When Seamus looked up, he waved the group inside.

"Harry, heard what you did to Malfoy. Brilliant. I wish I could have seen it," said Seamus as he shook hands with Harry.

Harry looked dumbfounded, "You've heard? Who told you?"

Lavender smiled, "Well, I did. I heard it from Parvati. It's all up and down the train. Malfoy's things must have been in the front compartment. I heard he had to walk the entire train with the stain getting bigger and bigger all the time."

Harry felt the train begin to slow. He looked at Ron and Neville and said, "We've got to get changed. See you at the feast Seamus."

***

Harry stepped off the train at the Hogsmeade station. The sights, sounds and smells reminded him how much he enjoyed being a wizard. A loud voice calling, "Firs' years, over 'ere," reinforced that feeling. Harry turned and spotted Hagrid holding up a hand and repeating his call. A growing army of what looked to Harry like munchkins surrounded Hagrid. _Were we ever that short? Well, I guess Hermione was, anyway. _

Harry called out, "Hi, Hagrid!"

Hagrid saw Harry and waved. "Evenin' Harry."

Harry found the rest of his group. Ron had secured a coach and was helping Hermione and Ginny up into it. Harry said to Ron, "Looks like you've got a friend there." 

Ron looked confused and swatted at the back of his head. 

Harry laughed and said, "Oh, right, you can't see him." He reached up and stroked the Thestral once between the ears. "Seems to fancy you, mate." Harry took Ron's free hand and guided it to the spot he had rubbed before. Ron stroked the animal absentmindedly and shook his head.

"This is just strange," Ron said. He gave the Thestral one more stroke and climbed up into the coach. 

Harry started to climb in with Hedwig when he thought of Neville and Luna. He found them farther down the line and shouted, "Neville, you want to come along? We can probably fit two more."

Neville shook his head and called back, "Don't worry Harry, we'll be right behind you."

Harry shrugged and closed the door. He sat down and turned to Ginny, who was sitting beside him. "Welcome home," he said, and smiled. 

Ginny returned his smile and said, "I always love the feeling I get the first night back. Seeing old friends and watching the sorting. It's...comfortable." 

Harry nodded, he certainly felt more comfortable than he had in months. He watched out the window of the coach and was rewarded with a glimpse of Hagrid and the first years setting off across the lake. He shook his head. "Is it just me or do the first years get shorter every year? There's no way we looked like that our first year."

The rest of the ride took place in companionable silence. When the coach stopped at the foot of the stairs, Ron and Hermione climbed out. Harry stepped down, and then turned back to help Ginny down. The four friends climbed the stairs and entered Hogwarts. 

Harry sighed again as he walked through the front doors. Students thronged the entryway and were slowly making their way to the Great Hall. He was surprised when he heard his name called out.

"Potter, Weasley," called Professor McGonagall. She was dressed in her traditional robes and tartan witch's hat. She stood on the stairs looking down on the mass of students.

Harry nudged Ron, and the broke through the crowd to reach the foot of the stairs. Harry licked his lips nervously and thought to himself, _this has got to be about Malfoy. Just one year I would like to not get into trouble on the first night of the term._

Minerva McGonagall looked down on the two students. "I need to see the two of you in my office after the feast."

Ron turned pale, "Professor, we didn't do anything wrong, I swear."

McGonagall chuckled softly. "Did I say that you had, Mr. Weasley? I just need to speak with both of you tonight before you go up to bed. It shouldn't take more than a few minutes."

Harry relaxed. Maybe she hadn't heard what had happened on the train...yet.

Professor McGonagall nodded to the two, "Go on and have a good meal." She watched as they turned to leave, and then continued, "and Mr. Potter, should we be making arrangements for a load of wood shavings for the Slytherin common room floor? Have a good evening." 


	8. Chapter 8

****

Harry Potter and the Singing Professor - Chapter 8

Harry and Ron made their way back towards the Great Hall. They quickly found Hermione and Ginny sitting with Neville at the Gryffindor table. Harry glanced at the head table and noted that there were still several seats empty. Dumbledore was seated in his usual chair, and nodded faintly as Harry caught his eye. Harry counted heads. Snape was missing, but Harry doubted that he was lucky enough for the Potions Master to have disappeared. Professor McGonagall was out dealing with the first years, and the chair usually reserved for the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was suspiciously empty. 

Harry watched as students continued to flow into the hall and wondered how much longer it would be before the golden plates filled with food.

Ron nudged Harry with his elbow and nodded towards the head table. "Where do you suppose Snape has gotten off to?"

Harry shrugged, "No telling. Have you heard who's supposed to take over Dark Arts this year?"

Ron shook his head, "I wonder if they found anyone to fill the post this time. Seems like we're pretty hard on...." Ron's mouth dropped open and he pointed at the head table.

Harry turned his attention back that way. Two people had come through the door behind the table and were making their way to their seats. Professor Snape was dressed in his normal black robes and permanent scowl. Harry watched as Snape sat down, then his gaze turned to the other teacher moving behind the table. Harry looked, removed his glasses and wiped them on his robes and put them back on. _That can't be...._

Ron leaned over, "Harry, isn't that Tonks?" He turned to Hermione and Ginny to get confirmation from them.

Harry looked back towards his friends. Hermione looked as shocked as Ron, but Ginny was smiling broadly. "You knew?" he asked her.

Ginny just smiled back and turned her attention to the head table. Professor Dumbledore was motioning for attention.

"Welcome back, ladies and gentleman. I believe we are about ready to start." Dumbledore looked towards the doors, and they began to open.

Professor McGonagall marched in with the now all too familiar Sorting Hat and stool. She also carried a woolly green pillow that Harry remembered seeing in her office. She placed the stool in the center of the room, and set the hat down on it. She slipped the pillow underneath the stool. The munchkins that were clustered around Hagrid were now following McGonagall. Part of Harry longed to be in that line, to be just starting again, feeling the awe and wonder that he felt the first time he entered the Great Hall. Harry turned away from the line of first years and looked around at the people surrounding him. His friends were here, and he wouldn't trade them for a chance to start again. He wouldn't trade any of them to change what they had endured together.

Harry looked up from his reverie, shocked to find that he hadn't noticed that the Sorting Hat was singing. He looked around at his friends, their attention fixed on the hat. Harry began to listen, knowing that the song was winding down.

**__**

So to you I say,

Be careful of the games you play,

For once things start,

You would not believe,

How consequences follow,

Joy turns to grief.

Think hard on your actions,

Heed what I say,

For once things have started,

They don't go away.

Harry stared at the Sorting Hat in disbelief. There was now way that it could know what he was planning. He wasn't even sure what he was planning other than some general mischief at Snape's expense. Harry shook his head to clear his mind. _It probably wasn't talking just to me. That was probably just a general warning to the school._ Still, it was something to keep in mind. Being completely honest with himself, Harry could understand why Snape had hated his father so much. He himself had been subjected to some of the same kind of torture at the hands of Dudley.

Harry looked at Ron and smiled weakly. He turned his attention back to the high table and caught Dumbledore's eye. Dumbledore's half smile and raised eyebrow directed Harry's attention back to the Sorting. He applauded with the rest of the table when "Ballou, Katherine" was sorted into Gryffindor. Harry watched anxiously as the line dwindled and finally "Zabini, Lindsey" was sorted into Slytherin. Professor McGonagall picked up the woolly green pillow and the Sorting Hat. She carried them both to the far end of the table, set the pillow on the table and gently laid the Sorting Hat on it. A polite cough from the center of the table got everyone attention. All eyes turned to Dumbledore, and the room fell silent. 

"Words of encouragement, a new teacher to announce, and the expanded list of prohibited items to follow. However, I can see you are all waiting for my two magic words. Let's eat," said Dumbledore.

Plates of food and tureens of gravy filled the tables. Harry had been waiting and expecting it, and his hand shot out and grabbed the first chicken leg off a plate in front of him. Ron's aim, his hand a moment behind Harry's, was not as true. Instead, he wound up with a fist full of mashed potatoes.

Hermione scowled at Ron, and pushed the potatoes that her spoon had been hovering over, away. "Really Ron, it's not like there wasn't enough for everyone."

Ron flushed slightly and wiped his hand on a napkin. "I didn't mean to...oh, forget it." He buried his spoon in the potatoes and scooped out a large portion for himself.

Harry gorged himself, as usual. Chicken, roast beef, potatoes, puddings, pies, and cake all disappeared from his plate. When he was finally stuffed and groaning, he pushed his plate away from him, and leaned back as far as he dared. "It's good to be back," he moaned.

Ron looked up and nodded, his mouth still full of a large bite of chocolate cake. "Mmmff - absolutely," he agreed as he swallowed.

Hermione shook her head and said, "I don't know why you eat that way, it's not like your mum doesn't feed you. I mean with Harry, I can understand." The Headmaster tapping on his glass interrupted her. She fell silent and turned toward the high table.

"As I said before, welcome back. I have several announcements. First, I would like for everyone to welcome our newest staff member, Professor Tonks. Professor?" Dumbledore turned to Tonks and offered her the floor.

Tonks stood up from the table, and waved once. Harry hoped she remembered what he had told her about Umbridge's speech last year, and would keep it short. Tonks spoke in a clear voice, loud enough to carry through the hall. "It's good to be back." She then looked to Dumbledore and sat back down to a round of applause.

Dumbledore smiled, "Well, that was...succinct. As I'm sure you've all guessed by now, Professor Tonks will be taking over Defense Against the Dark Arts this year."

A polite round of applause accompanied this announcement. Professor Dumbledore smiled and waited for the noise to die down again before continuing. "Professor Tonks is on loan to us from the Ministry of Magic's Auror's department. She has spent the last several years in the field, so we can be sure that there will be plenty of practical applications this year."

Dumbledore paused as an enormous round of applause rolled through the room. "Now continuing on," he said when the noise had once again died down, "The Forbidden Forest is still...forbidden." He turned to Professor McGonagall and said in a stage whisper, "Don't I say this every year? Ah, well, perhaps this year certain students will listen." Both professors smiled and looked pointedly at the Gryffindor table.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, then at Hermione. Each of them then turned and looked at Hagrid; Hermione pointing a finger and mouthing the words, "It's not my fault."

Dumbledore spoke up again. "Mr. Filch has expanded the list of prohibited items to include, and I quote, "Any of the nasty little things those wretched Weasley twins have come up with, especially the swamp." I personally would like to request that nobody cause Mr. Filch to have to row them to class this year. No magic in the halls between classes, and as I heard a wise man say just the other day, Buggerit all, millennium hand and shrimp, I told em, I told em. While I'm not sure exactly what he meant by that, I filed it away as generally useful information. Now, off to bed with you."

Harry stood up and looked toward the head table. The teachers were all getting up and leaving, and it looked as if he wouldn't get a chance to speak with Tonks. He stood there and watched, hoping that she would notice him and come over, but instead he drew a sharp look from Professor McGonagall. Harry shrugged and turned to Ron.

"Guess we had better go find out what McGonagall wants." He said to Ron. Harry turned to Ginny and Hermione and said, "Wait for us in the common room, and we'll let you in on it." With that they followed their fellow students out of the Great Hall.

***

Harry knocked on the doorframe of Professor McGonagall's office. She was seated at her desk writing something, and took a moment to look up. "Come in Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley."

Harry and Ron stepped into the room and sat down in the chairs across from McGonagall's desk. Ron looked around anxiously and finally said, "You wanted to see us, Professor?"

McGonagall looked up from her parchment again and sighed. "You have no patience, do you Mr. Weasley? Yes I did. I wanted to talk to both of you about this year's Quidditch team."

Harry glanced at Ron and saw that his friend looked relieved, now. Harry admitted to himself that he was relieved, as well. Quidditch was easy. Getting into trouble was hard. He looked back at Professor McGonagall as she continued. 

"I have to choose a new captain again this year. Now normally this responsibility would fall to the senior player on the team. It may still. However, several considerations require that I think twice about making that appointment." McGonagall locked eyes with both boys for a moment.

"You two are the most likely candidates for the captain's position. I would be interested in hearing what both of you have to say about it." McGonagall leaned back in her chair a bit and watched the boys.

Ron spoke first, "I think you ought to make Harry captain. It's only fair, he's been on the team for the longest."

Harry quickly interjected, "But Ron would make a better...."

McGonagall interrupted Harry. "Let's try this a different way, shall we. You both have reasons for being captain. Let me hear you argue why YOU should be captain, not each other. Let's begin again. Mr., Weasley, you first."

Ron's jaw dropped open. Harry could tell from the look on his face that he wanted to be captain more than anything, but was ashamed to admit it. Ron stuttered, "I, I ,I...I don't think I can do this."

Professor McGonagall sighed and looked at Ron, "Nonsense, you know what your skills are, and what qualities make a good Quidditch captain. Tell me what those are."

Ron hesitated. "Well, I am pretty good at strategy, and I know lots of plays. I play Keeper, so I am able to see the whole field, and know what's going on." His face flushed, "but Harry is senior," he concluded.

Professor McGonagall turned to Harry next. "Now you, Potter."

Harry looked up. "Professor, the only thing that I really have is that I'm the senior member of the team. I'm also the Seeker, which means that I don't have a lot of time to see what else is happening on the field. Ron almost always beats me at chess, too." Harry was surprised; he really did want to see Ron as captain. The title didn't mean much to Harry; not having it left him free to look for the Snitch.

Harry looked back at Ron and saw his friend staring at him, wide-eyed. "It's true, you know. "

Professor McGonagall smiled and said, "Those thoughts had occurred to me, as well. There is one other consideration. Professor Dumbledore has asked if you would consider continuing your defense training classes. He has offered any support that he can give, to make it easier on you. And of course, this year you wouldn't have to sneak around to meet."

Harry replied, "I...I'll try." _Looks like it's going to be another full year_. He sighed and thought more about the DA. He did enjoy teaching and helping others last year. It had been a lot of trouble, but watching the others develop had been worthwhile. Seeing how much Neville had improved had been worth the effort. 

Professor McGonagall stood up, "That was all that I had for you two." She turned away for a minute, then turned back. "Mr. Weasley. If I see that your grades are slipping because of this, I will make sure that you don't ride a broom the rest of the year. Goodnight."

Harry and Ron looked at each other as they left the office. Ron gulped and said, "It looks like I'm going to have to be really nice to Hermione this year. Otherwise, I'll never be able to keep up."

Harry thought about what Ron had confessed to him the day before. "Maybe you ought to be nice to her this year anyway. I hear that girls don't really fancy boys who aren't nice to them." Harry ducked as Ron realized what the comment implied and took a casual swing at him. Harry stopped at the corner to wait for Ron to catch up.

"Come on, Ron, " he called. Harry leaned up against a wall and looked up at the suit of armor standing there. He thought about the music box stashed in the bottom of his trunk, and hopped up on the platform the suit of armor was standing on. He leaned in close to the helmet and whispered, "I'm going to teach you to sing, mate. Oh, yes. You're going to sing." He hopped down just as Ron caught up.

"Were you just talking to the armor there, Harry?" Ron questioned.

Harry smiled and said, "Don't worry about it, I'll explain later." They continued on to the Gryffindor common room.

Hermione and Ginny met Ron and Harry when they entered the common room. Hermione looked at Ron and Harry and asked in an accusatory tone, "So what did Professor McGonagall want? Something to do with the incident on the train?"

Ron smirked and said, "No, for your information she wanted to talk to us about Quidditch."

Ginny piped up, "So what about Quidditch?"

Ron looked on smugly, "You happen to be looking at the new Gryffindor Quidditch Captain."

"She made you captain over Harry?" Ginny exclaimed.

Harry replied, "She just saw his natural genius for what it was. Either that or she didn't think his head was quite big enough, even after being made a prefect."

Ginny and Hermione snickered. "So when are tryouts, big brother? Do I really have to try out? You've been watching me fly circles around you for years."

Ron looked offended. "Yes, you have to tryout. There won't be any free rides on my team. Anyone who wants to play for me better be on the field next Monday afternoon. We'll have a lot of work to do, rebuilding the team this year."

Hermione and Ginny looked at each other and smiled. Ginny winked, and Hermione nodded. Then Hermione turned back to Ron and Harry. "Well, I am tired. I think that I will go up to bed. Ron, you will make sure that the first years all get up to bed soon, won't you?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, I can do that." He raised his voice, "All munchkins, go to bed." Ron looked back at Hermione and smiled.

"Really, you're impossible, Ron. Goodnight everyone." Hermione and Ginny climbed the stairs to the girls' dorm.

Harry looked at Ron, "I'm going to go up too. It's been a long day. You coming?"

Ron shook his head and sat down at a table. "I'll be up in a bit, I want to write down a few ideas for plays that I had. 'Night."

Harry nodded, "G'night then." He climbed the stairs to his dorm room and fell into bed.


End file.
